King LearBy William Shakespeare

Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles

Folger Shakespeare Libraryhttp://www.folgerdigitaltexts.org/?chapter=5&play=LrCreated on Apr 23, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.1.

Characters in the Play

LEAR, king of BritainGONERIL, Lear’s eldest daughterDUKE OF ALBANY, her husbandOSWALD, her steward

REGAN, Lear’s second daughterDUKE OF CORNWALL, her husband

CORDELIA, Lear’s youngest daughterKING OF FRANCE, her suitor and then husbandDUKE OF BURGUNDY, her suitor

EARL OF KENT

FOOL

EARL OF GLOUCESTEREDGAR, his elder sonEDMUND, his younger and illegitimate sonCURAN, gentleman of Gloucester’s householdOLD MAN, a tenant of Gloucester’s

KNIGHT, serving LearGENTLEMENThree SERVANTSMESSENGERSDOCTORCAPTAINSHERALD

Knights in Lear’s train, Servants, Officers, Soldiers, Attendants, Gentlemen

ACT 1

Scene 1Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund.

KENT I thought the King had more affected the Dukeof Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER It did always seem so to us, but now inthe division of the kingdom, it appears not whichof the dukes he values most, for equalities are so 5weighed that curiosity in neither can make choiceof either’s moiety.

KENT Is not this your son, my lord?GLOUCESTER His breeding, sir, hath been at my

charge. I have so often blushed to acknowledge 10him that now I am brazed to ’t.

KENT I cannot conceive you.GLOUCESTER Sir, this young fellow’s mother could,

whereupon she grew round-wombed and had indeed,sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband 15for her bed. Do you smell a fault?

KENT I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of itbeing so proper.

GLOUCESTER But I have a son, sir, by order of law,some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in 20my account. Though this knave came somethingsaucily to the world before he was sent for, yet washis mother fair, there was good sport at his making,and the whoreson must be acknowledged.—Do youknow this noble gentleman, Edmund? 25

EDMUND No, my lord.GLOUCESTER My lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter

as my honorable friend.EDMUND My services to your Lordship.KENT I must love you and sue to know you better. 30EDMUND Sir, I shall study deserving.GLOUCESTER He hath been out nine years, and away he

shall again. (Sennet.) The King is coming.

Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan,Cordelia, and Attendants.

LEARAttend the lords of France and Burgundy,

Gloucester. 35GLOUCESTER I shall, my lord. He exits.LEAR

Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.—Give me the map there. He is handed a map.

Know that we have dividedIn three our kingdom, and ’tis our fast intent 40To shake all cares and business from our age,Conferring them on younger strengths, while we

Unburdened crawl toward death. Our son ofCornwall

And you, our no less loving son of Albany, 45We have this hour a constant will to publishOur daughters’ several dowers, that future strifeMay be prevented now.The two great princes, France and Burgundy,Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love, 50Long in our court have made their amorous sojournAnd here are to be answered. Tell me, my

daughters—Since now we will divest us both of rule,Interest of territory, cares of state— 55Which of you shall we say doth love us most,That we our largest bounty may extendWhere nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,Our eldest born, speak first.

GONERILSir, I love you more than word can wield the 60

matter,Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty,Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare,No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor;As much as child e’er loved, or father found; 65A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable.Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

CORDELIA, asideWhat shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.

LEAR, pointing to the mapOf all these bounds, even from this line to this,With shadowy forests and with champains riched, 70With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,We make thee lady. To thine and Albany’s issueBe this perpetual.—What says our second

daughter,Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? Speak. 75

REGANI am made of that self mettle as my sisterAnd prize me at her worth. In my true heartI find she names my very deed of love;Only she comes too short, that I professMyself an enemy to all other joys 80Which the most precious square of sense

possesses,And find I am alone felicitateIn your dear Highness’ love.

CORDELIA, aside Then poor Cordelia! 85And yet not so, since I am sure my love’sMore ponderous than my tongue.

LEARTo thee and thine hereditary everRemain this ample third of our fair kingdom,No less in space, validity, and pleasure 90Than that conferred on Goneril.—Now, our joy,Although our last and least, to whose young loveThe vines of France and milk of Burgundy

Strive to be interessed, what can you say to drawA third more opulent than your sisters’? Speak. 95

CORDELIA Nothing, my lord.LEAR Nothing?CORDELIA Nothing.LEAR

Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.CORDELIA

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave 100My heart into my mouth. I love your MajestyAccording to my bond, no more nor less.

LEARHow, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,Lest you may mar your fortunes.

CORDELIA Good my lord, 105You have begot me, bred me, loved me.I return those duties back as are right fit:Obey you, love you, and most honor you.Why have my sisters husbands if they sayThey love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, 110That lord whose hand must take my plight shall

carryHalf my love with him, half my care and duty.Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,To love my father all. 115

LEAR But goes thy heart with this?CORDELIA Ay, my good lord.LEAR So young and so untender?CORDELIA So young, my lord, and true.LEAR

Let it be so. Thy truth, then, be thy dower, 120For by the sacred radiance of the sun,The mysteries of Hecate and the night,By all the operation of the orbsFrom whom we do exist and cease to be,Here I disclaim all my paternal care, 125Propinquity, and property of blood,And as a stranger to my heart and meHold thee from this forever. The barbarous

Scythian,Or he that makes his generation messes 130To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosomBe as well neighbored, pitied, and relievedAs thou my sometime daughter.

KENT Good my liege—LEAR Peace, Kent. 135

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.I loved her most and thought to set my restOn her kind nursery. To Cordelia. Hence and avoid

my sight!—So be my grave my peace as here I give 140Her father’s heart from her.—Call France. Who stirs?Call Burgundy. An Attendant exits. Cornwall and

Albany,With my two daughters’ dowers digest the third.Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. 145

I do invest you jointly with my power,Preeminence, and all the large effectsThat troop with majesty. Ourself by monthly course,With reservation of an hundred knightsBy you to be sustained, shall our abode 150Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retainThe name and all th’ addition to a king.The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,Belovèd sons, be yours, which to confirm,This coronet part between you. 155

KENT Royal Lear,Whom I have ever honored as my king,Loved as my father, as my master followed,As my great patron thought on in my prayers—

LEARThe bow is bent and drawn. Make from the shaft. 160

KENTLet it fall rather, though the fork invadeThe region of my heart. Be Kent unmannerlyWhen Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man?Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speakWhen power to flattery bows? To plainness honor’s 165

boundWhen majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state,And in thy best consideration checkThis hideous rashness. Answer my life my

judgment, 170Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least,Nor are those empty-hearted whose low soundsReverb no hollowness.

LEAR Kent, on thy life, no more.KENT

My life I never held but as a pawn 175To wage against thine enemies, nor fear to lose

it,Thy safety being motive.

LEAR Out of my sight!KENT

See better, Lear, and let me still remain 180The true blank of thine eye.

LEAR Now, by Apollo—KENT Now, by Apollo, king,

Thou swear’st thy gods in vain.LEAR O vassal! Miscreant! 185ALBANY/CORNWALL Dear sir, forbear.KENT

Kill thy physician, and thy fee bestowUpon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift,Or whilst I can vent clamor from my throat,I’ll tell thee thou dost evil. 190

LEARHear me, recreant; on thine allegiance, hear me!That thou hast sought to make us break our vows—Which we durst never yet—and with strained prideTo come betwixt our sentence and our power,Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, 195

Our potency made good, take thy reward:Five days we do allot thee for provisionTo shield thee from disasters of the world,And on the sixth to turn thy hated backUpon our kingdom. If on the tenth day following 200Thy banished trunk be found in our dominions,The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter,This shall not be revoked.

KENTFare thee well, king. Sith thus thou wilt appear,Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. 205To Cordelia. The gods to their dear shelter take

thee, maid,That justly think’st and hast most rightly said.To Goneril and Regan. And your large speeches

may your deeds approve, 210That good effects may spring from words of love.—Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu.He’ll shape his old course in a country new.

He exits.

Flourish. Enter Gloucester with France, and Burgundy,and Attendants.

GLOUCESTERHere’s France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

LEAR My lord of Burgundy, 215We first address toward you, who with this kingHath rivaled for our daughter. What in the leastWill you require in present dower with her,Or cease your quest of love?

BURGUNDY Most royal Majesty, 220I crave no more than hath your Highness offered,Nor will you tender less.

LEAR Right noble Burgundy,When she was dear to us, we did hold her so,But now her price is fallen. Sir, there she stands. 225If aught within that little seeming substance,Or all of it, with our displeasure piecedAnd nothing more, may fitly like your Grace,She’s there, and she is yours.

BURGUNDY I know no answer. 230LEAR

Will you, with those infirmities she owes,Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,Dowered with our curse and strangered with our

oath,Take her or leave her? 235

BURGUNDY Pardon me, royal sir,Election makes not up in such conditions.

LEARThen leave her, sir, for by the power that made meI tell you all her wealth.—For you, great king,I would not from your love make such a stray 240To match you where I hate. Therefore beseech youT’ avert your liking a more worthier way

Than on a wretch whom Nature is ashamedAlmost t’ acknowledge hers.

FRANCE This is most strange, 245That she whom even but now was your best

object,The argument of your praise, balm of your age,The best, the dearest, should in this trice of timeCommit a thing so monstrous to dismantle 250So many folds of favor. Sure her offenseMust be of such unnatural degreeThat monsters it, or your forevouched affectionFall into taint; which to believe of herMust be a faith that reason without miracle 255Should never plant in me.

CORDELIA, to Lear I yet beseech your Majesty—If for I want that glib and oily artTo speak and purpose not, since what I well

intend 260I’ll do ’t before I speak—that you make knownIt is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,No unchaste action or dishonored stepThat hath deprived me of your grace and favor,But even for want of that for which I am richer: 265A still-soliciting eye and such a tongueThat I am glad I have not, though not to have itHath lost me in your liking.

LEAR Better thouHadst not been born than not t’ have pleased me 270

better.FRANCE

Is it but this—a tardiness in natureWhich often leaves the history unspokeThat it intends to do?—My lord of Burgundy,What say you to the lady? Love’s not love 275When it is mingled with regards that standsAloof from th’ entire point. Will you have her?She is herself a dowry.

BURGUNDY, to Lear Royal king,Give but that portion which yourself proposed, 280And here I take Cordelia by the hand,Duchess of Burgundy.

LEARNothing. I have sworn. I am firm.

BURGUNDY, to CordeliaI am sorry, then, you have so lost a fatherThat you must lose a husband. 285

CORDELIA Peace be withBurgundy.

Since that respect and fortunes are his love,I shall not be his wife.

FRANCEFairest Cordelia, that art most rich being poor; 290Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised,Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon,Be it lawful I take up what’s cast away.Gods, gods! ’Tis strange that from their cold’st

neglect 295My love should kindle to enflamed respect.—Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my

chance,Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.Not all the dukes of wat’rish Burgundy 300Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.—Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind.Thou losest here a better where to find.

LEARThou hast her, France. Let her be thine, for weHave no such daughter, nor shall ever see 305That face of hers again. To Cordelia. Therefore

begoneWithout our grace, our love, our benison.—Come, noble Burgundy.

Flourish. All but France, Cordelia,Goneril, and Regan exit.

FRANCE Bid farewell to your sisters. 310CORDELIA

The jewels of our father, with washed eyesCordelia leaves you. I know you what you are,And like a sister am most loath to callYour faults as they are named. Love well our

father. 315To your professèd bosoms I commit him;But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,I would prefer him to a better place.So farewell to you both.

REGANPrescribe not us our duty. 320

GONERIL Let your studyBe to content your lord, who hath received youAt Fortune’s alms. You have obedience scantedAnd well are worth the want that you have wanted.

CORDELIATime shall unfold what plighted cunning hides, 325Who covers faults at last with shame derides.Well may you prosper.

FRANCE Come, my fair Cordelia.France and Cordelia exit.

GONERIL Sister, it is not little I have to say of whatmost nearly appertains to us both. I think our 330father will hence tonight.

REGAN That’s most certain, and with you; next monthwith us.

GONERIL You see how full of changes his age is; theobservation we have made of it hath not been 335little. He always loved our sister most, and withwhat poor judgment he hath now cast her offappears too grossly.

REGAN ’Tis the infirmity of his age. Yet he hath everbut slenderly known himself. 340

GONERIL The best and soundest of his time hath beenbut rash. Then must we look from his age toreceive not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed

condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardnessthat infirm and choleric years bring with 345them.

REGAN Such unconstant starts are we like to havefrom him as this of Kent’s banishment.

GONERIL There is further compliment of leave-takingbetween France and him. Pray you, let us sit 350together. If our father carry authority with suchdisposition as he bears, this last surrender of his willbut offend us.

REGAN We shall further think of it.GONERIL We must do something, and i’ th’ heat. 355

They exit.

Scene 2Enter Edmund, the Bastard.

EDMUNDThou, Nature, art my goddess. To thy lawMy services are bound. Wherefore should IStand in the plague of custom, and permitThe curiosity of nations to deprive meFor that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines 5Lag of a brother? why “bastard”? Wherefore “base,”When my dimensions are as well compact,My mind as generous and my shape as trueAs honest madam’s issue? Why brand they usWith “base,” with “baseness,” “bastardy,” “base,” 10

“base,”Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, takeMore composition and fierce qualityThan doth within a dull, stale, tired bedGo to th’ creating a whole tribe of fops 15Got ’tween asleep and wake? Well then,Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land.Our father’s love is to the bastard EdmundAs to th’ legitimate. Fine word, “legitimate.”Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed 20And my invention thrive, Edmund the baseShall top th’ legitimate. I grow, I prosper.Now, gods, stand up for bastards!

Enter Gloucester.

GLOUCESTERKent banished thus? And France in choler parted?And the King gone tonight, prescribed his power, 25Confined to exhibition? All this doneUpon the gad?—Edmund, how now? What news?

EDMUND So please your Lordship, none. He puts apaper in his pocket.GLOUCESTER Why so earnestly seek you to put up that

letter? 30EDMUND I know no news, my lord.GLOUCESTER What paper were you reading?EDMUND Nothing, my lord.

GLOUCESTER No? What needed then that terrible dispatchof it into your pocket? The quality of nothing 35hath not such need to hide itself. Let’s see. Come, ifit be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.

EDMUND I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letterfrom my brother that I have not all o’erread; andfor so much as I have perused, I find it not fit for 40your o’erlooking.

GLOUCESTER Give me the letter, sir.EDMUND I shall offend either to detain or give it. The

contents, as in part I understand them, are toblame. 45

GLOUCESTER Let’s see, let’s see.Edmund gives him the paper.

EDMUND I hope, for my brother’s justification, hewrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue.

GLOUCESTER (reads) This policy and reverence of agemakes the world bitter to the best of our times, keeps 50our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relishthem. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in theoppression of aged tyranny, who sways not as it hathpower but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this Imay speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked 55him, you should enjoy half his revenue forever andlive the beloved of your brother. Edgar.Hum? Conspiracy? “Sleep till I wake him, youshould enjoy half his revenue.” My son Edgar! Hadhe a hand to write this? A heart and brain to breed it 60in?—When came you to this? Who brought it?

EDMUND It was not brought me, my lord; there’s thecunning of it. I found it thrown in at the casementof my closet.

GLOUCESTER You know the character to be your 65brother’s?

EDMUND If the matter were good, my lord, I durstswear it were his; but in respect of that, I wouldfain think it were not.

GLOUCESTER It is his. 70EDMUND It is his hand, my lord, but I hope his heart is

not in the contents.GLOUCESTER Has he never before sounded you in this

business?EDMUND Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft 75

maintain it to be fit that, sons at perfect age andfathers declined, the father should be as ward to theson, and the son manage his revenue.

GLOUCESTER O villain, villain! His very opinion in theletter. Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish 80villain! Worse than brutish!—Go, sirrah, seekhim. I’ll apprehend him.—Abominable villain!—Where is he?

EDMUND I do not well know, my lord. If it shall pleaseyou to suspend your indignation against my brother 85till you can derive from him better testimony of hisintent, you should run a certain course; where, ifyou violently proceed against him, mistaking his

purpose, it would make a great gap in your ownhonor and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. 90I dare pawn down my life for him that he hathwrit this to feel my affection to your Honor, and tono other pretense of danger.

GLOUCESTER Think you so?EDMUND If your Honor judge it meet, I will place you 95

where you shall hear us confer of this, and by anauricular assurance have your satisfaction, and thatwithout any further delay than this very evening.

GLOUCESTER He cannot be such a monster.EDMUND Nor is not, sure. 100GLOUCESTER To his father, that so tenderly and entirely

loves him! Heaven and Earth! Edmund, seek himout; wind me into him, I pray you. Frame thebusiness after your own wisdom. I would unstatemyself to be in a due resolution. 105

EDMUND I will seek him, sir, presently, convey thebusiness as I shall find means, and acquaint youwithal.

GLOUCESTER These late eclipses in the sun and moonportend no good to us. Though the wisdom of 110nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature findsitself scourged by the sequent effects. Love cools,friendship falls off, brothers divide; in cities, mutinies;in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; andthe bond cracked ’twixt son and father. This villain 115of mine comes under the prediction: there’s sonagainst father. The King falls from bias of nature:there’s father against child. We have seen the best ofour time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, andall ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our 120graves.—Find out this villain, Edmund. It shalllose thee nothing. Do it carefully.—And the nobleand true-hearted Kent banished! His offense, honesty!’Tis strange. He exits.

EDMUND This is the excellent foppery of the world, that 125when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeits ofour own behavior) we make guilty of our disastersthe sun, the moon, and stars, as if we were villainson necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves,thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; 130drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforcedobedience of planetary influence; and all that weare evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirableevasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatishdisposition on the charge of a star! My father 135compounded with my mother under the Dragon’stail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that itfollows I am rough and lecherous. Fut, I shouldhave been that I am, had the maidenliest star in thefirmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar— 140

Enter Edgar.

and pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old

comedy. My cue is villainous melancholy, with asigh like Tom o’ Bedlam.—O, these eclipses doportend these divisions. Fa, sol, la, mi.

EDGAR How now, brother Edmund, what serious contemplation 145are you in?

EDMUND I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I readthis other day, what should follow these eclipses.

EDGAR Do you busy yourself with that?EDMUND I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed 150

unhappily, as of unnaturalness between thechild and the parent, death, dearth, dissolutions ofancient amities, divisions in state, menaces andmaledictions against king and nobles, needless diffidences,banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, 155nuptial breaches, and I know not what.

EDGAR How long have you been a sectaryastronomical?

EDMUND Come, come, when saw you my father last?EDGAR The night gone by. 160EDMUND Spake you with him?EDGAR Ay, two hours together.EDMUND Parted you in good terms? Found you no

displeasure in him by word nor countenance?EDGAR None at all. 165EDMUND Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended

him, and at my entreaty forbear his presenceuntil some little time hath qualified the heatof his displeasure, which at this instant so rageth inhim that with the mischief of your person it would 170scarcely allay.

EDGAR Some villain hath done me wrong.EDMUND That’s my fear. I pray you have a continent

forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower;and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from 175whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak.Pray you go. There’s my key. If you do stir abroad,go armed.

EDGAR Armed, brother?EDMUND Brother, I advise you to the best. I am no 180

honest man if there be any good meaning towardyou. I have told you what I have seen and heard, butfaintly, nothing like the image and horror of it. Prayyou, away.

EDGAR Shall I hear from you anon? 185EDMUND I do serve you in this business. Edgar exits.

A credulous father and a brother noble,Whose nature is so far from doing harmsThat he suspects none; on whose foolish honestyMy practices ride easy. I see the business. 190Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit.All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit.

He exits.

Scene 3Enter Goneril and Oswald, her Steward.

GONERIL Did my father strike my gentleman for chidingof his Fool?

OSWALD Ay, madam.GONERIL

By day and night he wrongs me. Every hourHe flashes into one gross crime or other 5That sets us all at odds. I’ll not endure it.His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids usOn every trifle. When he returns from hunting,I will not speak with him. Say I am sick.If you come slack of former services, 10You shall do well. The fault of it I’ll answer.

OSWALD He’s coming, madam. I hear him.GONERIL

Put on what weary negligence you please,You and your fellows. I’d have it come to question.If he distaste it, let him to my sister, 15Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,Not to be overruled. Idle old manThat still would manage those authoritiesThat he hath given away. Now, by my life,Old fools are babes again and must be used 20With checks as flatteries, when they are seen

abused.Remember what I have said.

OSWALD Well, madam.GONERIL

And let his knights have colder looks among you. 25What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,That I may speak. I’ll write straight to my sisterTo hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.

They exit in different directions.

Scene 4Enter Kent in disguise.

KENTIf but as well I other accents borrowThat can my speech diffuse, my good intentMay carry through itself to that full issueFor which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent,If thou canst serve where thou dost stand 5

condemned,So may it come thy master, whom thou lov’st,Shall find thee full of labors.

Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights, and Attendants.

LEAR Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go get it ready.An Attendant exits.

How now, what art thou? 10KENT A man, sir.LEAR What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with

us?KENT I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve

him truly that will put me in trust, to love him that 15is honest, to converse with him that is wise and sayslittle, to fear judgment, to fight when I cannotchoose, and to eat no fish.

LEAR What art thou?KENT A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the 20

King.LEAR If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a

king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?KENT Service.LEAR Who wouldst thou serve? 25KENT You.LEAR Dost thou know me, fellow?KENT No, sir, but you have that in your countenance

which I would fain call master.LEAR What’s that? 30KENT Authority.LEAR What services canst do?KENT I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a

curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain messagebluntly. That which ordinary men are fit for I 35am qualified in, and the best of me is diligence.

LEAR How old art thou?KENT Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing,

nor so old to dote on her for anything. I have yearson my back forty-eight. 40

LEAR Follow me. Thou shalt serve me—if I like theeno worse after dinner. I will not part from theeyet.—Dinner, ho, dinner!—Where’s my knave, myFool? Go you and call my Fool hither.

An Attendant exits.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

You, you, sirrah, where’s my daughter? 45OSWALD So please you— He exits.LEAR What says the fellow there? Call the clotpole

back. A Knight exits. Where’s my Fool? Ho! I thinkthe world’s asleep.

Enter Knight again.

How now? Where’s that mongrel? 50KNIGHT He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.LEAR Why came not the slave back to me when I

called him?KNIGHT Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner,

he would not. 55LEAR He would not?KNIGHT My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to

my judgment your Highness is not entertainedwith that ceremonious affection as you were wont.There’s a great abatement of kindness appears as 60well in the general dependents as in the Dukehimself also, and your daughter.

LEAR Ha? Sayst thou so?

KNIGHT I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I bemistaken, for my duty cannot be silent when I think 65your Highness wronged.

LEAR Thou but remembrest me of mine own conception.I have perceived a most faint neglect of late,which I have rather blamed as mine own jealouscuriosity than as a very pretense and purpose of 70unkindness. I will look further into ’t. But where’smy Fool? I have not seen him this two days.

KNIGHT Since my young lady’s going into France, sir,the Fool hath much pined away.

LEAR No more of that. I have noted it well.—Go you 75and tell my daughter I would speak with her. AnAttendant exits. Go you call hither my Fool.

Another exits.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

O you, sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir?OSWALD My lady’s father.LEAR “My lady’s father”? My lord’s knave! You whoreson 80

dog, you slave, you cur!OSWALD I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your

pardon.LEAR Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?

Lear strikes him.OSWALD I’ll not be strucken, my lord. 85KENT, tripping him Nor tripped neither, you base

football player?LEAR I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv’st me, and I’ll

love thee.KENT, to Oswald Come, sir, arise. Away. I’ll teach you 90

differences. Away, away. If you will measure yourlubber’s length again, tarry. But away. Go to. Haveyou wisdom? So. Oswald exits.

LEAR Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There’searnest of thy service. He gives Kent a purse. 95

Enter Fool.

FOOL Let me hire him too. To Kent. Here’s mycoxcomb. He offers Kent his cap.

LEAR How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?FOOL, to Kent Sirrah, you were best take my

coxcomb. 100LEAR Why, my boy?FOOL Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favor.

To Kent. Nay, an thou canst not smile as thewind sits, thou ’lt catch cold shortly. There, take mycoxcomb. Why, this fellow has banished two on ’s 105daughters and did the third a blessing against hiswill. If thou follow him, thou must needs wear mycoxcomb.—How now, nuncle? Would I had twocoxcombs and two daughters.

LEAR Why, my boy? 110FOOL If I gave them all my living, I’d keep my coxcombs

myself. There’s mine. Beg another of thydaughters.

LEAR Take heed, sirrah—the whip.FOOL Truth’s a dog must to kennel; he must be 115

whipped out, when the Lady Brach may stand by th’fire and stink.

LEAR A pestilent gall to me!FOOL Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.LEAR Do. 120FOOL Mark it, nuncle:

Have more than thou showest.Speak less than thou knowest,Lend less than thou owest,Ride more than thou goest, 125Learn more than thou trowest,Set less than thou throwest;Leave thy drink and thy whoreAnd keep in-a-door,And thou shalt have more 130Than two tens to a score.

KENT This is nothing, Fool.FOOL Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer.

You gave me nothing for ’t.—Can you make no useof nothing, nuncle? 135

LEAR Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out ofnothing.

FOOL, to Kent Prithee tell him, so much the rent of hisland comes to. He will not believe a Fool.

LEAR A bitter Fool! 140FOOL Dost know the difference, my boy, between a

bitter fool and a sweet one?LEAR No, lad, teach me.FOOL That lord that counseled thee

To give away thy land, 145Come place him here by me; Do thou for him stand.The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear:The one in motley here, 150 The other found out there.

LEAR Dost thou call me “fool,” boy?FOOL All thy other titles thou hast given away. That

thou wast born with.KENT This is not altogether fool, my lord. 155FOOL No, faith, lords and great men will not let me. If

I had a monopoly out, they would have part on ’t.And ladies too, they will not let me have all the foolto myself; they’ll be snatching.—Nuncle, give mean egg, and I’ll give thee two crowns. 160

LEAR What two crowns shall they be?FOOL Why, after I have cut the egg i’ th’ middle and eat

up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thouclovest thy crown i’ th’ middle and gav’st awayboth parts, thou bor’st thine ass on thy back o’er 165the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crownwhen thou gav’st thy golden one away. If I speak

like myself in this, let him be whipped that firstfinds it so. Sings.

Fools had ne’er less grace in a year, 170 For wise men are grown foppishAnd know not how their wits to wear, Their manners are so apish.

LEAR When were you wont to be so full of songs,sirrah? 175

FOOL I have used it, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thydaughters thy mothers. For when thou gav’st themthe rod and put’st down thine own breeches,Sings.

Then they for sudden joy did weep, And I for sorrow sung, 180That such a king should play bo-peep And go the fools among.

Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teachthy Fool to lie. I would fain learn to lie.

LEAR An you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped. 185FOOL I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are.

They’ll have me whipped for speaking true, thou ’lthave me whipped for lying, and sometimes I amwhipped for holding my peace. I had rather be anykind o’ thing than a Fool. And yet I would not be 190thee, nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o’ both sidesand left nothing i’ th’ middle. Here comes one o’ theparings.

Enter Goneril.

LEARHow now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on?Methinks you are too much of late i’ th’ frown. 195

FOOL Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst noneed to care for her frowning. Now thou art an Owithout a figure. I am better than thou art now. Iam a Fool. Thou art nothing. To Goneril. Yes,forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids 200me, though you say nothing.

Mum, mum,He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,Weary of all, shall want some.

He points at Lear.That’s a shelled peascod. 205

GONERILNot only, sir, this your all-licensed Fool,But other of your insolent retinueDo hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forthIn rank and not-to-be-endurèd riots. Sir,I had thought by making this well known unto you 210To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,By what yourself too late have spoke and done,That you protect this course and put it onBy your allowance; which if you should, the faultWould not ’scape censure, nor the redresses sleep 215Which in the tender of a wholesome weal

Might in their working do you that offense,Which else were shame, that then necessityWill call discreet proceeding.

FOOL For you know, nuncle, 220The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,That it’s had it head bit off by it young.

So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.LEAR Are you our daughter?GONERIL

I would you would make use of your good wisdom, 225Whereof I know you are fraught, and put awayThese dispositions which of late transport youFrom what you rightly are.

FOOL May not an ass know when the cart draws thehorse? Whoop, Jug, I love thee! 230

LEARDoes any here know me? This is not Lear.Does Lear walk thus, speak thus? Where are his

eyes?Either his notion weakens, his discerningsAre lethargied—Ha! Waking? ’Tis not so. 235Who is it that can tell me who I am?

FOOL Lear’s shadow.LEAR

I would learn that, for, by the marks ofsovereignty,

Knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded 240I had daughters.

FOOL Which they will make an obedient father.LEAR Your name, fair gentlewoman?GONERIL

This admiration, sir, is much o’ th’ savorOf other your new pranks. I do beseech you 245To understand my purposes aright.As you are old and reverend, should be wise.Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,Men so disordered, so debauched and bold,That this our court, infected with their manners, 250Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lustMakes it more like a tavern or a brothelThan a graced palace. The shame itself doth speakFor instant remedy. Be then desired,By her that else will take the thing she begs, 255A little to disquantity your train,And the remainders that shall still dependTo be such men as may besort your age,Which know themselves and you.

LEAR Darkness and 260devils!—

Saddle my horses. Call my train together.Some exit.

Degenerate bastard, I’ll not trouble thee.Yet have I left a daughter.

GONERILYou strike my people, and your disordered rabble 265Make servants of their betters.

Enter Albany.

LEARWoe that too late repents!—O, sir, are you

come?Is it your will? Speak, sir.—Prepare my horses.

Some exit.Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, 270More hideous when thou show’st thee in a childThan the sea monster!

ALBANY Pray, sir, be patient.LEAR, to Goneril Detested kite, thou liest.

My train are men of choice and rarest parts, 275That all particulars of duty knowAnd in the most exact regard supportThe worships of their name. O most small fault,How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show,Which, like an engine, wrenched my frame of 280

natureFrom the fixed place, drew from my heart all loveAnd added to the gall! O Lear, Lear, Lear!

He strikes his head.Beat at this gate that let thy folly inAnd thy dear judgment out. Go, go, my people. 285

Some exit.ALBANY

My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorantOf what hath moved you.

LEAR It may be so, my lord.—Hear, Nature, hear, dear goddess, hear!Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend 290To make this creature fruitful.Into her womb convey sterility.Dry up in her the organs of increase,And from her derogate body never springA babe to honor her. If she must teem, 295Create her child of spleen, that it may liveAnd be a thwart disnatured torment to her.Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits 300To laughter and contempt, that she may feelHow sharper than a serpent’s tooth it isTo have a thankless child.—Away, away!

Lear and the rest of his train exit.ALBANY

Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?GONERIL

Never afflict yourself to know more of it, 305But let his disposition have that scopeAs dotage gives it.

Enter Lear and the Fool.

LEARWhat, fifty of my followers at a clap?Within a fortnight?

ALBANY What’s the matter, sir? 310LEAR

I’ll tell thee. To Goneril. Life and death! I amashamed

That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon 315

thee!Th’ untented woundings of a father’s cursePierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck you outAnd cast you, with the waters that you loose, 320To temper clay. Yea, is ’t come to this?Ha! Let it be so. I have another daughterWho, I am sure, is kind and comfortable.When she shall hear this of thee, with her nailsShe’ll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find 325That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost thinkI have cast off forever. He exits.

GONERIL Do you mark that?ALBANY

I cannot be so partial, Goneril,To the great love I bear you— 330

GONERIL Pray you, content.—What, Oswald, ho!—You, sir, more knave than Fool, after your master.

FOOL Nuncle Lear, Nuncle Lear, tarry. Take the Foolwith thee.

A fox, when one has caught her, 335And such a daughter,Should sure to the slaughter,If my cap would buy a halter.

So the Fool follows after.He exits.

GONERILThis man hath had good counsel. A hundred 340

knights!’Tis politic and safe to let him keepAt point a hundred knights! Yes, that on every

dream,Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, 345He may enguard his dotage with their powersAnd hold our lives in mercy.—Oswald, I say!

ALBANY Well, you may fear too far.GONERIL Safer than trust too far.

Let me still take away the harms I fear, 350Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.What he hath uttered I have writ my sister.If she sustain him and his hundred knightsWhen I have showed th’ unfitness—

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

How now, Oswald? 355

What, have you writ that letter to my sister?OSWALD Ay, madam.GONERIL

Take you some company and away to horse.Inform her full of my particular fear,And thereto add such reasons of your own 360As may compact it more. Get you gone,And hasten your return. Oswald exits. No, no, my

lord,This milky gentleness and course of yours,Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, 365You are much more at task for want of wisdomThan praised for harmful mildness.

ALBANYHow far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.

GONERIL Nay, then— 370ALBANY Well, well, th’ event.

They exit.

Scene 5Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, Gentleman, and Fool.

LEAR, to Kent Go you before to Gloucester with theseletters. Acquaint my daughter no further with anythingyou know than comes from her demand out ofthe letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I shall bethere afore you. 5

KENT I will not sleep, my lord, till I have deliveredyour letter. He exits.

FOOL If a man’s brains were in ’s heels, were ’t not indanger of kibes?

LEAR Ay, boy. 10FOOL Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall not go

slipshod.LEAR Ha, ha, ha!FOOL Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly,

for, though she’s as like this as a crab’s like an 15apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

LEAR What canst tell, boy?FOOL She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab.

Thou canst tell why one’s nose stands i’ th’ middleon ’s face? 20

LEAR No.FOOL Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side ’s nose,

that what a man cannot smell out he may spy into.LEAR I did her wrong.FOOL Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? 25LEAR No.FOOL Nor I neither. But I can tell why a snail has a

house.LEAR Why?FOOL Why, to put ’s head in, not to give it away to his 30

daughters and leave his horns without a case.LEAR I will forget my nature. So kind a father!—Be

my horses ready? Gentleman exits.

FOOL Thy asses are gone about ’em. The reason whythe seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty 35reason.

LEAR Because they are not eight.FOOL Yes, indeed. Thou wouldst make a good Fool.LEAR To take ’t again perforce! Monster ingratitude!FOOL If thou wert my Fool, nuncle, I’d have thee 40

beaten for being old before thy time.LEAR How’s that?FOOL Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst

been wise.LEAR

O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! 45Keep me in temper. I would not be mad!

Enter Gentleman.

How now, are the horses ready?GENTLEMAN Ready, my lord.LEAR Come, boy.FOOL

She that’s a maid now and laughs at my departure, 50Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut

shorter.They exit.

ACT 2

Scene 1Enter Edmund, the Bastard and Curan, severally.

EDMUND Save thee, Curan.CURAN And you, sir. I have been with your father and

given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall andRegan his duchess will be here with him this night.

EDMUND How comes that? 5CURAN Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news

abroad?—I mean the whispered ones, for they areyet but ear-kissing arguments.

EDMUND Not I. Pray you, what are they?CURAN Have you heard of no likely wars toward ’twixt 10

the dukes of Cornwall and Albany?EDMUND Not a word.CURAN You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

He exits.EDMUND

The Duke be here tonight? The better, best.This weaves itself perforce into my business. 15My father hath set guard to take my brother,And I have one thing of a queasy questionWhich I must act. Briefness and fortune work!—Brother, a word. Descend. Brother, I say!

Enter Edgar.

My father watches. O sir, fly this place! 20Intelligence is given where you are hid.You have now the good advantage of the night.Have you not spoken ’gainst the Duke of Cornwall?He’s coming hither, now, i’ th’ night, i’ th’ haste,And Regan with him. Have you nothing said 25Upon his party ’gainst the Duke of Albany?Advise yourself.

EDGAR I am sure on ’t, not a word.EDMUND

I hear my father coming. Pardon me.In cunning I must draw my sword upon you. 30Draw. Seem to defend yourself. Now, quit you

well. They draw.Yield! Come before my father! Light, hoa, here!Aside to Edgar. Fly, brother.—Torches, torches!

—So, farewell. Edgar exits. 35Some blood drawn on me would beget opinionOf my more fierce endeavor. I have seen drunkardsDo more than this in sport. He wounds his arm.

Father, father!Stop, stop! No help? 40

Enter Gloucester, and Servants with torches.

GLOUCESTER Now, Edmund, where’s thevillain?

EDMUNDHere stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moonTo stand auspicious mistress. 45

GLOUCESTER But where is he?EDMUND

Look, sir, I bleed.GLOUCESTER Where is the villain,

Edmund?EDMUND

Fled this way, sir, when by no means he could— 50GLOUCESTER

Pursue him, ho! Go after. Servants exit. By nomeans what?

EDMUNDPersuade me to the murder of your Lordship,But that I told him the revenging gods’Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend, 55Spoke with how manifold and strong a bondThe child was bound to th’ father—sir, in fine,Seeing how loathly opposite I stoodTo his unnatural purpose, in fell motionWith his preparèd sword he charges home 60My unprovided body, lanced mine arm;And when he saw my best alarumed spirits,Bold in the quarrel’s right, roused to th’ encounter,Or whether ghasted by the noise I made,Full suddenly he fled. 65

GLOUCESTER Let him fly far!Not in this land shall he remain uncaught,And found—dispatch. The noble duke my master,My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight.By his authority I will proclaim it 70That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;He that conceals him, death.

EDMUNDWhen I dissuaded him from his intentAnd found him pight to do it, with curst speech 75I threatened to discover him. He replied“Thou unpossessing bastard, dost thou thinkIf I would stand against thee, would the reposalOf any trust, virtue, or worth in theeMake thy words faithed? No. What I should 80

deny—As this I would, though thou didst produceMy very character—I’d turn it allTo thy suggestion, plot, and damnèd practice.And thou must make a dullard of the world 85If they not thought the profits of my deathWere very pregnant and potential spursTo make thee seek it.”

GLOUCESTER O strange and fastened villain!

Would he deny his letter, said he? 90I never got him. Tucket within.Hark, the Duke’s trumpets. I know not why he

comes.All ports I’ll bar. The villain shall not ’scape.The Duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture 95I will send far and near, that all the kingdomMay have due note of him. And of my land,Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the meansTo make thee capable.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.

CORNWALLHow now, my noble friend? Since I came hither, 100Which I can call but now, I have heard strange

news.REGAN

If it be true, all vengeance comes too shortWhich can pursue th’ offender. How dost, my

lord? 105GLOUCESTER

O madam, my old heart is cracked; it’s cracked.REGAN

What, did my father’s godson seek your life?He whom my father named, your Edgar?

GLOUCESTERO lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

REGANWas he not companion with the riotous knights 110That tended upon my father?

GLOUCESTERI know not, madam. ’Tis too bad, too bad.

EDMUNDYes, madam, he was of that consort.

REGANNo marvel, then, though he were ill affected.’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death, 115To have th’ expense and waste of his revenues.I have this present evening from my sisterBeen well informed of them, and with such cautionsThat if they come to sojourn at my houseI’ll not be there. 120

CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.—Edmund, I hear that you have shown your fatherA childlike office.

EDMUND It was my duty, sir.GLOUCESTER

He did bewray his practice, and received 125This hurt you see striving to apprehend him.

CORNWALL Is he pursued?GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.CORNWALL

If he be taken, he shall never moreBe feared of doing harm. Make your own purpose, 130How in my strength you please.—For you, Edmund,

Whose virtue and obedience doth this instantSo much commend itself, you shall be ours.Natures of such deep trust we shall much need.You we first seize on. 135

EDMUND I shall serve you, sir,Truly, however else.

GLOUCESTER For him I thank your Grace.CORNWALL

You know not why we came to visit you—REGAN

Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night. 140Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,Wherein we must have use of your advice.Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,Of differences, which I best thought it fitTo answer from our home. The several messengers 145From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,Lay comforts to your bosom and bestowYour needful counsel to our businesses,Which craves the instant use.

GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam. 150Your Graces are right welcome.

Flourish. They exit.

Scene 2Enter Kent in disguise and Oswald, the Steward,

severally.

OSWALD Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of thishouse?

KENT Ay.OSWALD Where may we set our horses?KENT I’ th’ mire. 5OSWALD Prithee, if thou lov’st me, tell me.KENT I love thee not.OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee.KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make

thee care for me. 10OSWALD Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.KENT Fellow, I know thee.OSWALD What dost thou know me for?KENT A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a

base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, 15filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered,action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable,finical rogue; one-trunk-inheritingslave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of goodservice, and art nothing but the composition of a 20knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heirof a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat intoclamorous whining if thou deny’st the least syllableof thy addition.

OSWALD Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus 25to rail on one that is neither known of thee norknows thee!

KENT What a brazen-faced varlet art thou to deny thou

knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped upthy heels and beat thee before the King? He draws 30his sword. Draw, you rogue, for though it be night,yet the moon shines. I’ll make a sop o’ th’ moonshineof you, you whoreson, cullionly barbermonger.Draw!

OSWALD Away! I have nothing to do with thee. 35KENT Draw, you rascal! You come with letters against

the King and take Vanity the puppet’s part againstthe royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I’ll socarbonado your shanks! Draw, you rascal! Comeyour ways. 40

OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Help!KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat

slave! Strike! He beats Oswald.OSWALD Help, ho! Murder, murder!

Enter Bastard Edmund, with his rapier drawn,Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.

EDMUND How now, what’s the matter? Part! 45KENT With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come, I’ll

flesh you. Come on, young master.GLOUCESTER

Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives! He dies that

strikes again. What is the matter? 50REGAN

The messengers from our sister and the King.CORNWALL What is your difference? Speak.OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor.

You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a 55tailor made thee.

CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make aman?

KENT A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could nothave made him so ill, though they had been but two 60years o’ th’ trade.

CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have

spared at suit of his gray beard—KENT Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter! 65

—My lord, if you will give me leave, I will treadthis unbolted villain into mortar and daub the wallof a jakes with him.—Spare my gray beard, youwagtail?

CORNWALL Peace, sirrah! 70You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

KENTYes, sir, but anger hath a privilege.

CORNWALL Why art thou angry?KENT

That such a slave as this should wear a sword,Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as 75

these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwainWhich are too intrinse t’ unloose; smooth every

passionThat in the natures of their lords rebel— 80Being oil to fire, snow to the colder moods—Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaksWith every gale and vary of their masters,Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—A plague upon your epileptic visage! 85Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,I’d drive you cackling home to Camelot.

CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow?GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that. 90KENT

No contraries hold more antipathyThan I and such a knave.

CORNWALLWhy dost thou call him “knave”? What is his fault?

KENT His countenance likes me not.CORNWALL

No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers. 95KENT

Sir, ’tis my occupation to be plain:I have seen better faces in my timeThan stands on any shoulder that I seeBefore me at this instant.

CORNWALL This is some fellow 100Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affectA saucy roughness and constrains the garbQuite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he.An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!An they will take it, so; if not, he’s plain. 105These kind of knaves I know, which in this

plainnessHarbor more craft and more corrupter endsThan twenty silly-ducking observantsThat stretch their duties nicely. 110

KENTSir, in good faith, in sincere verity,Under th’ allowance of your great aspect,Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fireOn flick’ring Phoebus’ front—

CORNWALL What mean’st by this? 115KENT To go out of my dialect, which you discommend

so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer. He thatbeguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave,which for my part I will not be, though I shouldwin your displeasure to entreat me to ’t. 120

CORNWALL, to Oswald What was th’ offense you gavehim?

OSWALD I never gave him any.It pleased the King his master very lateTo strike at me, upon his misconstruction; 125When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure,Tripped me behind; being down, insulted, railed,

And put upon him such a deal of manThat worthied him, got praises of the KingFor him attempting who was self-subdued; 130And in the fleshment of this dread exploit,Drew on me here again.

KENT None of these rogues and cowardsBut Ajax is their fool.

CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks.— 135You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart,We’ll teach you.

KENT Sir, I am too old to learn.Call not your stocks for me. I serve the King,On whose employment I was sent to you. 140You shall do small respect, show too bold

maliceAgainst the grace and person of my master,Stocking his messenger.

CORNWALLFetch forth the stocks.—As I have life and honor, 145There shall he sit till noon.

REGANTill noon? Till night, my lord, and all night, too.

KENTWhy, madam, if I were your father’s dog,You should not use me so.

REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will. 150CORNWALL

This is a fellow of the selfsame colorOur sister speaks of.—Come, bring away the stocks.

Stocks brought out.GLOUCESTER

Let me beseech your Grace not to do so.His fault is much, and the good king his masterWill check him for ’t. Your purposed low correction 155Is such as basest and contemned’st wretchesFor pilf’rings and most common trespassesAre punished with. The King must take it illThat he, so slightly valued in his messenger,Should have him thus restrained. 160

CORNWALL I’ll answer that.REGAN

My sister may receive it much more worseTo have her gentleman abused, assaultedFor following her affairs.—Put in his legs.

Kent is put in the stocks.CORNWALL Come, my good lord, away. 165

All but Gloucester and Kent exit.GLOUCESTER

I am sorry for thee, friend. ’Tis the Duke’spleasure,

Whose disposition all the world well knowsWill not be rubbed nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.

KENTPray, do not, sir. I have watched and traveled hard. 170Some time I shall sleep out; the rest I’ll whistle.A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels.

Give you good morrow.GLOUCESTER

The Duke’s to blame in this. ’Twill be ill taken.He exits.

KENTGood king, that must approve the common saw, 175Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’stTo the warm sun. He takes out a paper.Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,That by thy comfortable beams I mayPeruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles 180But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,Who hath most fortunately been informedOf my obscurèd course, and shall find timeFrom this enormous state, seeking to giveLosses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched, 185Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to beholdThis shameful lodging.Fortune, good night. Smile once more; turn thy

wheel.Sleeps.

Scene 3Enter Edgar.

EDGAR I heard myself proclaimed,And by the happy hollow of a treeEscaped the hunt. No port is free; no placeThat guard and most unusual vigilanceDoes not attend my taking. Whiles I may ’scape, 5I will preserve myself, and am bethoughtTo take the basest and most poorest shapeThat ever penury in contempt of manBrought near to beast. My face I’ll grime with filth,Blanket my loins, elf all my hairs in knots, 10And with presented nakedness outfaceThe winds and persecutions of the sky.The country gives me proof and precedentOf Bedlam beggars who with roaring voicesStrike in their numbed and mortifièd arms 15Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary,And, with this horrible object, from low farms,Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,Enforce their charity. “Poor Turlygod! Poor Tom!” 20That’s something yet. “Edgar” I nothing am.

He exits.

Scene 4Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.

LEAR’Tis strange that they should so depart from homeAnd not send back my messenger.

GENTLEMAN As I learned,The night before there was no purpose in them

Of this remove. 5KENT, waking Hail to thee, noble master.LEAR Ha?

Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?KENT No, my lord.FOOL Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied 10

by the heads, dogs and bears by th’ neck, monkeysby th’ loins, and men by th’ legs. When a man’soverlusty at legs, then he wears woodennetherstocks.

LEARWhat’s he that hath so much thy place mistook 15To set thee here?

KENT It is both he and she,Your son and daughter.

LEAR No.KENT Yes. 20LEAR No, I say.KENT I say yea.LEAR By Jupiter, I swear no.

KENTBy Juno, I swear ay.LEAR They durst not do ’t. 25

They could not, would not do ’t. ’Tis worse thanmurder

To do upon respect such violent outrage.Resolve me with all modest haste which wayThou might’st deserve or they impose this usage, 30Coming from us.

KENT My lord, when at their homeI did commend your Highness’ letters to them,Ere I was risen from the place that showedMy duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, 35Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forthFrom Goneril his mistress salutations;Delivered letters, spite of intermission,Which presently they read; on whose contentsThey summoned up their meiny, straight took 40

horse,Commanded me to follow and attendThe leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks;And meeting here the other messenger,Whose welcome, I perceived, had poisoned mine, 45Being the very fellow which of lateDisplayed so saucily against your Highness,Having more man than wit about me, drew.He raised the house with loud and coward cries.Your son and daughter found this trespass worth 50The shame which here it suffers.

FOOL Winter’s not gone yet if the wild geese fly thatway.

Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind, 55But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind.Fortune, that arrant whore,Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolors for 60thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.

LEARO, how this mother swells up toward my heart!Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow!Thy element’s below.—Where is this daughter?

KENT With the Earl, sir, here within. 65LEAR, to Fool and Gentleman Follow me not. Stay

here. He exits.GENTLEMAN

Made you no more offense but what you speak of?KENT None.

How chance the King comes with so small a number? 70FOOL An thou hadst been set i’ th’ stocks for that

question, thou ’dst well deserved it.KENT Why, Fool?FOOL We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee

there’s no laboring i’ th’ winter. All that follow 75their noses are led by their eyes but blind men, andthere’s not a nose among twenty but can smell himthat’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheelruns down a hill lest it break thy neck with following;but the great one that goes upward, let him 80draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee bettercounsel, give me mine again. I would have none butknaves follow it, since a Fool gives it.

That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, 85Will pack when it begins to rain And leave thee in the storm.But I will tarry; the Fool will stay, And let the wise man fly.The knave turns fool that runs away; 90 The Fool no knave, perdie.

KENT Where learned you this, Fool?FOOL Not i’ th’ stocks, fool.

Enter Lear and Gloucester.

LEARDeny to speak with me? They are sick? They are

weary? 95They have traveled all the night? Mere fetches,The images of revolt and flying off.Fetch me a better answer.

GLOUCESTER My dear lord,You know the fiery quality of the Duke, 100How unremovable and fixed he isIn his own course.

LEARVengeance, plague, death, confusion!“Fiery”? What “quality”? Why Gloucester,

Gloucester, 105I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

GLOUCESTERWell, my good lord, I have informed them so.

LEAR“Informed them”? Dost thou understand me,

man?GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord. 110LEAR

The King would speak with Cornwall. The dearfather

Would with his daughter speak, commands, tendsservice.

Are they “informed” of this? My breath and 115blood!

“Fiery”? The “fiery” duke? Tell the hot duke that—No, but not yet. Maybe he is not well.Infirmity doth still neglect all officeWhereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves 120When nature, being oppressed, commands the mindTo suffer with the body. I’ll forbear,And am fallen out with my more headier will,To take the indisposed and sickly fitFor the sound man. Noticing Kent again. Death on 125

my state! WhereforeShould he sit here? This act persuades meThat this remotion of the Duke and herIs practice only. Give me my servant forth.Go tell the Duke and ’s wife I’d speak with them. 130Now, presently, bid them come forth and hear me,Or at their chamber door I’ll beat the drumTill it cry sleep to death.

GLOUCESTER I would have all well betwixt you.He exits.

LEARO me, my heart, my rising heart! But down! 135

FOOL Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eelswhen she put ’em i’ th’ paste alive. She knapped’em o’ th’ coxcombs with a stick and cried “Down,wantons, down!” ’Twas her brother that in purekindness to his horse buttered his hay. 140

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.

LEAR Good morrow to you both.CORNWALL Hail to your Grace.

Kent here set at liberty.REGAN I am glad to see your Highness.LEAR

Regan, I think you are. I know what reasonI have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, 145I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb,Sepulch’ring an adult’ress. To Kent. O, are you

free?Some other time for that.—Belovèd Regan,Thy sister’s naught. O Regan, she hath tied 150Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here.I can scarce speak to thee. Thou ’lt not believeWith how depraved a quality—O Regan!

REGANI pray you, sir, take patience. I have hopeYou less know how to value her desert 155Than she to scant her duty.

LEAR Say? How is that?REGAN

I cannot think my sister in the leastWould fail her obligation. If, sir, perchanceShe have restrained the riots of your followers, 160’Tis on such ground and to such wholesome endAs clears her from all blame.

LEAR My curses on her.REGAN O sir, you are old.

Nature in you stands on the very verge 165Of his confine. You should be ruled and ledBy some discretion that discerns your stateBetter than you yourself. Therefore, I pray youThat to our sister you do make return.Say you have wronged her. 170

LEAR Ask her forgiveness?Do you but mark how this becomes the house:

He kneels.“Dear daughter, I confess that I am old.Age is unnecessary. On my knees I begThat you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.” 175

REGANGood sir, no more. These are unsightly tricks.Return you to my sister.

LEAR, rising Never, Regan.She hath abated me of half my train,Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue 180Most serpentlike upon the very heart.All the stored vengeances of heaven fallOn her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,You taking airs, with lameness!

CORNWALL Fie, sir, fie! 185LEAR

You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flamesInto her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sunTo fall and blister!

REGANO, the blest gods! So will you wish on me 190When the rash mood is on.

LEARNo, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse.Thy tender-hefted nature shall not giveThee o’er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but

thine 195Do comfort and not burn. ’Tis not in theeTo grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,And, in conclusion, to oppose the boltAgainst my coming in. Thou better know’st 200The offices of nature, bond of childhood,Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude.

Thy half o’ th’ kingdom hast thou not forgot,Wherein I thee endowed.

REGAN Good sir, to th’ purpose. 205Tucket within.

LEARWho put my man i’ th’ stocks?

CORNWALL What trumpet’s that?REGAN

I know ’t—my sister’s. This approves her letter,That she would soon be here.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

Is your lady come? 210LEAR

This is a slave whose easy-borrowed prideDwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.—Out, varlet, from my sight!

CORNWALL What means your Grace?LEAR

Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope 215Thou didst not know on ’t.

Enter Goneril.

Who comes here? O heavens,If you do love old men, if your sweet swayAllow obedience, if you yourselves are old,Make it your cause. Send down and take my part. 220To Goneril. Art not ashamed to look upon this

beard? Regan takes Goneril’s hand.O Regan, will you take her by the hand?

GONERILWhy not by th’ hand, sir? How have I offended?All’s not offense that indiscretion finds 225And dotage terms so.

LEAR O sides, you are too tough!Will you yet hold?—How came my man i’ th’

stocks?CORNWALL

I set him there, sir, but his own disorders 230Deserved much less advancement.

LEAR You? Did you?REGAN

I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.If till the expiration of your monthYou will return and sojourn with my sister, 235Dismissing half your train, come then to me.I am now from home and out of that provisionWhich shall be needful for your entertainment.

LEARReturn to her? And fifty men dismissed?No! Rather I abjure all roofs, and choose 240To wage against the enmity o’ th’ air,To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,Necessity’s sharp pinch. Return with her?

Why the hot-blooded France, that dowerless tookOur youngest born—I could as well be brought 245To knee his throne and, squire-like, pension begTo keep base life afoot. Return with her?Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpterTo this detested groom. He indicates Oswald.

GONERIL At your choice, sir. 250LEAR

I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad.I will not trouble thee, my child. Farewell.We’ll no more meet, no more see one another.But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter,Or, rather, a disease that’s in my flesh, 255Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,A plague-sore or embossèd carbuncleIn my corrupted blood. But I’ll not chide thee.Let shame come when it will; I do not call it.I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, 260Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.Mend when thou canst. Be better at thy leisure.I can be patient. I can stay with Regan,I and my hundred knights.

REGAN Not altogether so. 265I looked not for you yet, nor am providedFor your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister,For those that mingle reason with your passionMust be content to think you old, and so—But she knows what she does. 270

LEAR Is this well spoken?REGAN

I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers?Is it not well? What should you need of more?Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and dangerSpeak ’gainst so great a number? How in one house 275Should many people under two commandsHold amity? ’Tis hard, almost impossible.

GONERILWhy might not you, my lord, receive attendanceFrom those that she calls servants, or from mine?

REGANWhy not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack 280

you,We could control them. If you will come to me(For now I spy a danger), I entreat youTo bring but five-and-twenty. To no moreWill I give place or notice. 285

LEAR I gave you all—REGAN And in good time you gave it.LEAR

Made you my guardians, my depositaries,But kept a reservation to be followedWith such a number. What, must I come to you 290With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?

REGANAnd speak ’t again, my lord. No more with me.

LEARThose wicked creatures yet do look well-favoredWhen others are more wicked. Not being the worstStands in some rank of praise. To Goneril. I’ll go 295

with thee.Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,And thou art twice her love.

GONERIL Hear me, my lord.What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five, 300To follow in a house where twice so manyHave a command to tend you?

REGAN What need one?LEAR

O, reason not the need! Our basest beggarsAre in the poorest thing superfluous. 305Allow not nature more than nature needs,Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady;If only to go warm were gorgeous,Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st,Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true 310

need—You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!You see me here, you gods, a poor old manAs full of grief as age, wretched in both.If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts 315Against their father, fool me not so muchTo bear it tamely. Touch me with noble anger,And let not women’s weapons, water drops,Stain my man’s cheeks.—No, you unnatural hags,I will have such revenges on you both 320That all the world shall—I will do such things—What they are yet I know not, but they shall beThe terrors of the Earth! You think I’ll weep.No, I’ll not weep.I have full cause of weeping, but this heart 325

Storm and tempest.Shall break into a hundred thousand flawsOr ere I’ll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad!

Lear, Kent, and Fool exitwith Gloucester and the Gentleman.

CORNWALL Let us withdraw. ’Twill be a storm.REGAN

This house is little. The old man and ’s peopleCannot be well bestowed. 330

GONERIL’Tis his own blame hath put himself from rest,And must needs taste his folly.

REGANFor his particular, I’ll receive him gladly,But not one follower.

GONERILSo am I purposed. Where is my lord of Gloucester? 335

CORNWALLFollowed the old man forth.

Enter Gloucester.

He is returned.GLOUCESTER The King is in high rage.CORNWALL Whither is he going?GLOUCESTER

He calls to horse, but will I know not whither. 340CORNWALL

’Tis best to give him way. He leads himself.GONERIL, to Gloucester

My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.GLOUCESTER

Alack, the night comes on, and the high windsDo sorely ruffle. For many miles aboutThere’s scarce a bush. 345

REGAN O sir, to willful menThe injuries that they themselves procureMust be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.He is attended with a desperate train,And what they may incense him to, being apt 350To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.

CORNWALLShut up your doors, my lord. ’Tis a wild night.My Regan counsels well. Come out o’ th’ storm.

They exit.

ACT 3

Scene 1Storm still. Enter Kent in disguise, and a Gentleman,

severally.

KENT Who’s there, besides foul weather?GENTLEMAN

One minded like the weather, most unquietly.KENT I know you. Where’s the King?GENTLEMAN

Contending with the fretful elements;Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea 5Or swell the curlèd waters ’bove the main,That things might change or cease; tears his white

hair,Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rageCatch in their fury and make nothing of; 10Strives in his little world of man to outscornThe to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain.This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would

couch,The lion and the belly-pinchèd wolf 15Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runsAnd bids what will take all.

KENT But who is with him?GENTLEMAN

None but the Fool, who labors to outjestHis heart-struck injuries. 20

KENT Sir, I do know youAnd dare upon the warrant of my noteCommend a dear thing to you. There is division,Although as yet the face of it is coveredWith mutual cunning, ’twixt Albany and Cornwall, 25Who have—as who have not, that their great starsThroned and set high?—servants, who seem no less,Which are to France the spies and speculationsIntelligent of our state. From France there comes

a power 30Into this scattered kingdom, who already,Wise in our negligence, have secret feetIn some of our best ports and are at pointTo show their open banner. Now to you:If on my credit you dare build so far 35To make your speed to Dover, you shall findSome that will thank you, making just reportOf how unnatural and bemadding sorrowThe King hath cause to plain: what hath been seen,Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes, 40Or the hard rein which both of them hath borneAgainst the old kind king, or something deeper,Whereof perchance these are but furnishings.I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,

And from some knowledge and assurance offer 45This office to you.

GENTLEMANI will talk further with you.

KENT No, do not.For confirmation that I am much moreThan my outwall, open this purse and take 50What it contains.

Kent hands him a purse and a ring.If you shall see Cordelia

(As fear not but you shall), show her this ring,And she will tell you who that fellow isThat yet you do not know. Fie on this storm! 55I will go seek the King.

GENTLEMANGive me your hand. Have you no more to say?

KENTFew words, but, to effect, more than all yet:That when we have found the King—in which your

pain 60That way, I’ll this—he that first lights on himHolla the other.

They exit separately.

Scene 2Storm still. Enter Lear and Fool.

LEARBlow winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!You cataracts and hurricanoes, spoutTill you have drenched our steeples, drowned the

cocks.You sulph’rous and thought-executing fires, 5Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,Singe my white head. And thou, all-shaking

thunder,Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ th’ world.Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once 10That makes ingrateful man.

FOOL O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house isbetter than this rainwater out o’ door. Good nuncle,in. Ask thy daughters’ blessing. Here’s a nightpities neither wise men nor fools. 15

LEARRumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.I never gave you kingdom, called you children;You owe me no subscription. Then let fall 20Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man.But yet I call you servile ministers,That will with two pernicious daughters joinYour high-engendered battles ’gainst a head 25So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul!

FOOL He that has a house to put ’s head in has a good

headpiece.The codpiece that will house Before the head has any, 30The head and he shall louse; So beggars marry many.The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make,Shall of a corn cry woe, 35 And turn his sleep to wake.

For there was never yet fair woman but she mademouths in a glass.

LEARNo, I will be the pattern of all patience.I will say nothing. 40

Enter Kent in disguise.

KENT Who’s there?FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece; that’s a

wise man and a fool.KENT

Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love nightLove not such nights as these. The wrathful skies 45Gallow the very wanderers of the darkAnd make them keep their caves. Since I was man,Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,Such groans of roaring wind and rain I neverRemember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry 50Th’ affliction nor the fear.

LEAR Let the great godsThat keep this dreadful pudder o’er our headsFind out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes 55Unwhipped of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand,Thou perjured, and thou simular of virtueThat art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake,That under covert and convenient seemingHas practiced on man’s life. Close pent-up guilts, 60Rive your concealing continents and cryThese dreadful summoners grace. I am a manMore sinned against than sinning.

KENT Alack,bareheaded? 65

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel.Some friendship will it lend you ’gainst the tempest.Repose you there while I to this hard house—More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,Which even but now, demanding after you, 70Denied me to come in—return and forceTheir scanted courtesy.

LEAR My wits begin to turn.—Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold?I am cold myself.—Where is this straw, my fellow? 75The art of our necessities is strangeAnd can make vile things precious. Come, your

hovel.—

Poor Fool and knave, I have one part in my heartThat’s sorry yet for thee. 80

FOOL singsHe that has and a little tiny wit, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,Must make content with his fortunes fit, Though the rain it raineth every day.

LEARTrue, my good boy.—Come, bring us to this hovel. 85

Lear and Kent exit.FOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I’ll

speak a prophecy ere I go:When priests are more in word than matter,When brewers mar their malt with water,When nobles are their tailors’ tutors, 90No heretics burned but wenches’ suitors,When every case in law is right,No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;When slanders do not live in tongues,Nor cutpurses come not to throngs, 95When usurers tell their gold i’ th’ field,And bawds and whores do churches build,Then shall the realm of AlbionCome to great confusion;Then comes the time, who lives to see ’t, 100That going shall be used with feet.

This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live beforehis time.

He exits.

Scene 3Enter Gloucester and Edmund.

GLOUCESTER Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not thisunnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that Imight pity him, they took from me the use of mineown house, charged me on pain of perpetualdispleasure neither to speak of him, entreat for 5him, or any way sustain him.

EDMUND Most savage and unnatural.GLOUCESTER Go to; say you nothing. There is division

between the dukes, and a worse matter than that. Ihave received a letter this night; ’tis dangerous to 10be spoken; I have locked the letter in my closet.These injuries the King now bears will be revengedhome; there is part of a power already footed. Wemust incline to the King. I will look him and privilyrelieve him. Go you and maintain talk with the 15Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If heask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. If I die for it, asno less is threatened me, the King my old mastermust be relieved. There is strange things toward,Edmund. Pray you, be careful. He exits. 20

EDMUNDThis courtesy forbid thee shall the DukeInstantly know, and of that letter too.

This seems a fair deserving, and must draw meThat which my father loses—no less than all.The younger rises when the old doth fall. 25

He exits.

Scene 4Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, and Fool.

KENTHere is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter.The tyranny of the open night ’s too roughFor nature to endure. Storm still.

LEAR Let me alone.KENT

Good my lord, enter here. 5LEAR Wilt break my heart?KENT

I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.LEAR

Thou think’st ’tis much that this contentious stormInvades us to the skin. So ’tis to thee.But where the greater malady is fixed, 10The lesser is scarce felt. Thou ’dst shun a bear,But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea,Thou ’dst meet the bear i’ th’ mouth. When the

mind’s free,The body’s delicate. This tempest in my mind 15Doth from my senses take all feeling elseSave what beats there. Filial ingratitude!Is it not as this mouth should tear this handFor lifting food to ’t? But I will punish home.No, I will weep no more. In such a night 20To shut me out? Pour on. I will endure.In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril,Your old kind father whose frank heart gave all!O, that way madness lies. Let me shun that;No more of that. 25

KENT Good my lord, enter here.LEAR

Prithee, go in thyself. Seek thine own ease.This tempest will not give me leave to ponderOn things would hurt me more. But I’ll go in.—In, boy; go first.—You houseless poverty— 30Nay, get thee in. I’ll pray, and then I’ll sleep.

Fool exits.Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,Your looped and windowed raggedness defend 35

youFrom seasons such as these? O, I have ta’enToo little care of this. Take physic, pomp.Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,That thou may’st shake the superflux to them 40And show the heavens more just.

EDGAR within Fathom and half, fathom and half!

Poor Tom!

Enter Fool.

FOOL Come not in here, nuncle; here’s a spirit. Helpme, help me! 45

KENT Give me thy hand. Who’s there?FOOL A spirit, a spirit! He says his name’s Poor Tom.KENT What art thou that dost grumble there i’ th’

straw? Come forth.

Enter Edgar in disguise.

EDGAR Away. The foul fiend follows me. Through the 50sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! Go tothy cold bed and warm thee.

LEAR Didst thou give all to thy daughters? And art thoucome to this?

EDGAR Who gives anything to Poor Tom, whom the 55foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame,through ford and whirlpool, o’er bog and quagmire;that hath laid knives under his pillow andhalters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge,made him proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting 60horse over four-inched bridges to course his ownshadow for a traitor? Bless thy five wits! Tom’sa-cold. O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee fromwhirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do Poor Tomsome charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There 65could I have him now, and there—and there again—and there. Storm still.

LEARHas his daughters brought him to this pass?—Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give ’em

all? 70FOOL Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all

shamed.LEAR

Now all the plagues that in the pendulous airHang fated o’er men’s faults light on thy daughters!

KENT He hath no daughters, sir. 75LEAR

Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued natureTo such a lowness but his unkind daughters.Is it the fashion that discarded fathersShould have thus little mercy on their flesh?Judicious punishment! ’Twas this flesh begot 80Those pelican daughters.

EDGAR Pillicock sat on Pillicock Hill. Alow, alow, loo,loo.

FOOL This cold night will turn us all to fools andmadmen. 85

EDGAR Take heed o’ th’ foul fiend. Obey thy parents,keep thy word’s justice, swear not, commit not withman’s sworn spouse, set not thy sweet heart onproud array. Tom’s a-cold.

LEAR What hast thou been? 90EDGAR A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that

curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, served thelust of my mistress’ heart and did the act ofdarkness with her, swore as many oaths as I spakewords and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; 95one that slept in the contriving of lust and waked todo it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and inwoman out-paramoured the Turk. False of heart,light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox instealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in 100prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustlingof silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thyfoot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thypen from lenders’ books, and defy the foul fiend.Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; 105says suum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa!Let him trot by. Storm still.

LEAR Thou wert better in a grave than to answer withthy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.—Isman no more than this? Consider him well.—Thou 110ow’st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheepno wool, the cat no perfume. Ha, here’s three on ’sare sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodatedman is no more but such a poor, bare,forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! 115Come, unbutton here. Tearing off his clothes.

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, be contented. ’Tis a naughtynight to swim in. Now, a little fire in a wild fieldwere like an old lecher’s heart—a small spark, allthe rest on ’s body cold. 120

Enter Gloucester, with a torch.

Look, here comes a walking fire.EDGAR This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins

at curfew and walks till the first cock. Hegives the web and the pin, squints the eye, andmakes the harelip, mildews the white wheat, and 125hurts the poor creature of earth.

Swithold footed thrice the ’old,He met the nightmare and her ninefold, Bid her alight, And her troth plight, 130And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee.

KENT How fares your Grace?LEAR What’s he?KENT Who’s there? What is ’t you seek?GLOUCESTER What are you there? Your names? 135EDGAR Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the

toad, the tadpole, the wall newt, and the water;that, in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiendrages, eats cow dung for sallets, swallows the oldrat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of 140the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing totithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned;

who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts tohis body,

Horse to ride, and weapon to wear; 145But mice and rats and such small deerHave been Tom’s food for seven long year.

Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin! Peace, thoufiend!

GLOUCESTER, to LearWhat, hath your Grace no better company? 150

EDGAR The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman. Modohe’s called, and Mahu.

GLOUCESTER, to LearOur flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vileThat it doth hate what gets it.

EDGAR Poor Tom’s a-cold. 155GLOUCESTER, to Lear

Go in with me. My duty cannot sufferT’ obey in all your daughters’ hard commands.Though their injunction be to bar my doorsAnd let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,Yet have I ventured to come seek you out 160And bring you where both fire and food is ready.

LEARFirst let me talk with this philosopher.To Edgar. What is the cause of thunder?

KENTGood my lord, take his offer; go into th’ house.

LEARI’ll talk a word with this same learnèd Theban.— 165What is your study?

EDGAR How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.LEAR Let me ask you one word in private.

They talk aside.KENT, to Gloucester

Importune him once more to go, my lord.His wits begin t’ unsettle. 170

GLOUCESTER Canst thou blame him?Storm still.

His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!He said it would be thus, poor banished man.Thou sayest the King grows mad; I’ll tell thee,

friend, 175I am almost mad myself. I had a son,Now outlawed from my blood. He sought my lifeBut lately, very late. I loved him, friend,No father his son dearer. True to tell thee,The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night’s this! 180—I do beseech your Grace—

LEAR O, cry you mercy, sir.To Edgar. Noble philosopher, your company.

EDGAR Tom’s a-cold.GLOUCESTER, to Edgar

In fellow, there, into th’ hovel. Keep thee warm. 185LEARCome, let’s in all.

KENT This way, my lord.LEAR, indicating Edgar With him.

I will keep still with my philosopher.KENT, to Gloucester

Good my lord, soothe him. Let him take the fellow. 190GLOUCESTER, to Kent Take him you on.KENT, to Edgar

Sirrah, come on: go along with us.LEAR Come, good Athenian.GLOUCESTER No words, no words. Hush.EDGAR

Child Rowland to the dark tower came. 195His word was still “Fie, foh, and fum,I smell the blood of a British man.”

They exit.

Scene 5Enter Cornwall, and Edmund with a paper.

CORNWALL I will have my revenge ere I depart hishouse.

EDMUND How, my lord, I may be censured, that naturethus gives way to loyalty, something fears me tothink of. 5

CORNWALL I now perceive it was not altogether yourbrother’s evil disposition made him seek his death,but a provoking merit set awork by a reprovablebadness in himself.

EDMUND How malicious is my fortune that I must 10repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of,which approves him an intelligent party to theadvantages of France. O heavens, that this treasonwere not, or not I the detector.

CORNWALL Go with me to the Duchess. 15EDMUND If the matter of this paper be certain, you

have mighty business in hand.CORNWALL True or false, it hath made thee Earl of

Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that hemay be ready for our apprehension. 20

EDMUND, aside If I find him comforting the King, itwill stuff his suspicion more fully.—I will perseverein my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sorebetween that and my blood.

CORNWALL I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt 25find a dearer father in my love.

They exit.

Scene 6Enter Kent in disguise, and Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER Here is better than the open air. Take itthankfully. I will piece out the comfort with whataddition I can. I will not be long from you.

KENT All the power of his wits have given way to hisimpatience. The gods reward your kindness! 5

Gloucester exits.

Enter Lear, Edgar in disguise, and Fool.

EDGAR Frateretto calls me and tells me Nero is anangler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, andbeware the foul fiend.

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be agentleman or a yeoman. 10

LEAR A king, a king!FOOL No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his

son, for he’s a mad yeoman that sees his son agentleman before him.

LEARTo have a thousand with red burning spits 15Come hissing in upon ’em!

EDGAR The foul fiend bites my back.FOOL He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a

horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.LEAR

It shall be done. I will arraign them straight. 20To Edgar. Come, sit thou here, most learnèd

justice.To Fool. Thou sapient sir, sit here. Now, you

she-foxes—EDGAR Look where he stands and glares!—Want’st 25

thou eyes at trial, madam?Sings. Come o’er the burn, Bessy, to me—

FOOL singsHer boat hath a leak,And she must not speakWhy she dares not come over to thee. 30

EDGAR The foul fiend haunts Poor Tom in the voice ofa nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly fortwo white herring.—Croak not, black angel. I haveno food for thee.

KENT, to LearHow do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed. 35Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?

LEARI’ll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence.To Edgar. Thou robèd man of justice, take thy

place,To Fool. And thou, his yokefellow of equity, 40Bench by his side. To Kent. You are o’ th’

commission;Sit you, too.

EDGAR Let us deal justly.Sings. Sleepest or wakest, thou jolly shepherd? 45

Thy sheep be in the corn.And for one blast of thy minikin mouth, Thy sheep shall take no harm.

Purr the cat is gray.LEAR Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath 50

before this honorable assembly, kicked the poorking her father.

FOOL Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?LEAR She cannot deny it.FOOL Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint stool. 55

LEARAnd here’s another whose warped looks proclaimWhat store her heart is made on. Stop her there!Arms, arms, sword, fire! Corruption in the place!False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape?

EDGAR Bless thy five wits! 60KENT, to Lear

O pity! Sir, where is the patience nowThat you so oft have boasted to retain?

EDGAR, asideMy tears begin to take his part so muchThey mar my counterfeiting.

LEAR The little dogs and all, 65Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.

EDGAR Tom will throw his head at them.—Avaunt, youcurs!

Be thy mouth or black or white,Tooth that poisons if it bite, 70Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,Hound or spaniel, brach, or lym,Bobtail tike, or trundle-tail,Tom will make him weep and wail;For, with throwing thus my head, 75Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled.

Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakesand fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, thy hornis dry.

LEAR Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds 80about her heart. Is there any cause in nature thatmake these hard hearts? To Edgar. You, sir, Ientertain for one of my hundred; only I do not likethe fashion of your garments. You will say they arePersian, but let them be changed. 85

KENTNow, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.

LEAR, lying down Make no noise, make no noise.Draw the curtains. So, so, we’ll go to supper i’ th’morning.

FOOL And I’ll go to bed at noon. 90

Enter Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER, to KentCome hither, friend. Where is the King my master?

KENTHere, sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone.

GLOUCESTERGood friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms.I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him.There is a litter ready; lay him in ’t, 95And drive toward Dover, friend, where thou shalt

meetBoth welcome and protection. Take up thy master.If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,With thine and all that offer to defend him, 100Stand in assurèd loss. Take up, take up,

And follow me, that will to some provisionGive thee quick conduct.

KENT Oppressèd nature sleeps.This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews, 105Which, if convenience will not allow,Stand in hard cure. To the Fool. Come, help to

bear thy master.Thou must not stay behind.

GLOUCESTER Come, come away. 110All but Edgar exit, carrying Lear.

EDGARWhen we our betters see bearing our woes,We scarcely think our miseries our foes.Who alone suffers suffers most i’ th’ mind,Leaving free things and happy shows behind.But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskip 115When grief hath mates and bearing fellowship.How light and portable my pain seems nowWhen that which makes me bend makes the King

bow!He childed as I fathered. Tom, away. 120Mark the high noises, and thyself bewrayWhen false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile

thee,In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King! 125Lurk, lurk.

He exits.

Scene 7Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, the Bastard,

and Servants.

CORNWALL, to Goneril Post speedily to my lord yourhusband. Show him this letter. He gives her apaper. The army of France is landed.—Seek outthe traitor Gloucester. Some Servants exit.

REGAN Hang him instantly. 5GONERIL Pluck out his eyes.CORNWALL Leave him to my displeasure.—Edmund,

keep you our sister company. The revenges we arebound to take upon your traitorous father are notfit for your beholding. Advise the Duke, where you 10are going, to a most festinate preparation; we arebound to the like. Our posts shall be swift andintelligent betwixt us.—Farewell, dear sister.—Farewell, my lord of Gloucester.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

How now? Where’s the King? 15OSWALD

My lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence.Some five- or six-and-thirty of his knights,Hot questrists after him, met him at gate,Who, with some other of the lord’s dependents,

Are gone with him toward Dover, where they boast 20To have well-armèd friends.

CORNWALL Get horses for your mistress.Oswald exits.

GONERIL Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.CORNWALL

Edmund, farewell. Goneril and Edmund exit.Go seek the traitor Gloucester. 25

Pinion him like a thief; bring him before us.Some Servants exit.

Though well we may not pass upon his lifeWithout the form of justice, yet our powerShall do a court’sy to our wrath, which menMay blame but not control. 30

Enter Gloucester and Servants.

Who’s there? Thetraitor?

REGAN Ingrateful fox! ’Tis he.CORNWALL Bind fast his corky arms.GLOUCESTER

What means your Graces? Good my friends, 35consider

You are my guests; do me no foul play, friends.CORNWALL

Bind him, I say.REGAN Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!GLOUCESTER

Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none. 40CORNWALL

To this chair bind him. Servants bind Gloucester.Villain, thou shalt find—

Regan plucks Gloucester’s beard.GLOUCESTER

By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly doneTo pluck me by the beard.

REGANSo white, and such a traitor? 45

GLOUCESTER Naughty lady,These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chinWill quicken and accuse thee. I am your host;With robber’s hands my hospitable favorsYou should not ruffle thus. What will you do? 50

CORNWALLCome, sir, what letters had you late from France?

REGANBe simple-answered, for we know the truth.

CORNWALLAnd what confederacy have you with the traitorsLate footed in the kingdom?

REGAN To whose hands 55You have sent the lunatic king. Speak.

GLOUCESTERI have a letter guessingly set downWhich came from one that’s of a neutral heart,

And not from one opposed.CORNWALL Cunning. 60REGAN And false.CORNWALL Where hast thou sent the King?GLOUCESTER To Dover.REGAN

Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged atperil— 65

CORNWALLWherefore to Dover? Let him answer that.

GLOUCESTERI am tied to th’ stake, and I must stand the course.

REGAN Wherefore to Dover?GLOUCESTER

Because I would not see thy cruel nailsPluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister 70In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.The sea, with such a storm as his bare headIn hell-black night endured, would have buoyed upAnd quenched the stellèd fires;Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. 75If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern time,Thou shouldst have said “Good porter, turn the

key.”All cruels else subscribe. But I shall seeThe wingèd vengeance overtake such children. 80

CORNWALLSee ’t shalt thou never.—Fellows, hold the chair.—Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.

GLOUCESTERHe that will think to live till he be old,Give me some help!

As Servants hold the chair, Cornwall forces outone of Gloucester’s eyes.

O cruel! O you gods! 85REGAN

One side will mock another. Th’ other too.CORNWALL

If you see vengeance—FIRST SERVANT Hold your hand,

my lord.I have served you ever since I was a child, 90But better service have I never done youThan now to bid you hold.

REGAN How now, you dog?FIRST SERVANT

If you did wear a beard upon your chin,I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? 95

CORNWALL My villain? Draw and fight.FIRST SERVANT

Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.REGAN, to an Attendant

Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?She takes a sword and runs

at him behind; kills him.

FIRST SERVANTO, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye leftTo see some mischief on him. O! He dies. 100

CORNWALLLest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!

Forcing out Gloucester’s other eye.Where is thy luster now?

GLOUCESTERAll dark and comfortless! Where’s my son

Edmund?—Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature 105To quit this horrid act.

REGAN Out, treacherous villain!Thou call’st on him that hates thee. It was heThat made the overture of thy treasons to us,Who is too good to pity thee. 110

GLOUCESTERO my follies! Then Edgar was abused.Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him.

REGANGo thrust him out at gates, and let him smellHis way to Dover.

Some Servants exit with Gloucester.How is ’t, my lord? How look you? 115

CORNWALLI have received a hurt. Follow me, lady.—Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slaveUpon the dunghill.—Regan, I bleed apace.Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.

Cornwall and Regan exit.SECOND SERVANT

I’ll never care what wickedness I do 120If this man come to good.

THIRD SERVANT If she live longAnd in the end meet the old course of death,Women will all turn monsters.

SECOND SERVANTLet’s follow the old earl and get the Bedlam 125To lead him where he would. His roguish madnessAllows itself to anything.

THIRD SERVANTGo thou. I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggsTo apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!

They exit.

ACT 4

Scene 1Enter Edgar in disguise.

EDGARYet better thus, and known to be contemned,Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst,The lowest and most dejected thing of Fortune,Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.The lamentable change is from the best; 5The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace.The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worstOwes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes here?

Enter Gloucester and an old man.

My father, poorly led? World, world, O world, 10But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,Life would not yield to age.

OLD MANO my good lord, I have been your tenantAnd your father’s tenant these fourscore years.

GLOUCESTERAway, get thee away. Good friend, begone. 15Thy comforts can do me no good at all;Thee they may hurt.

OLD MAN You cannot see your way.GLOUCESTER

I have no way and therefore want no eyes.I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen 20Our means secure us, and our mere defectsProve our commodities. O dear son Edgar,The food of thy abusèd father’s wrath,Might I but live to see thee in my touch,I’d say I had eyes again. 25

OLD MAN How now? Who’s there?EDGAR, aside

O gods, who is ’t can say “I am at the worst”?I am worse than e’er I was.

OLD MAN ’Tis poor mad Tom.EDGAR, aside

And worse I may be yet. The worst is not 30So long as we can say “This is the worst.”

OLD MANFellow, where goest?

GLOUCESTER Is it a beggar-man?OLD MAN Madman and beggar too.GLOUCESTER

He has some reason, else he could not beg. 35I’ th’ last night’s storm, I such a fellow saw,Which made me think a man a worm. My son

Came then into my mind, and yet my mindWas then scarce friends with him. I have heard

more since. 40As flies to wanton boys are we to th’ gods;They kill us for their sport.

EDGAR, aside How should this be?Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,Ang’ring itself and others.—Bless thee, master. 45

GLOUCESTERIs that the naked fellow?

OLD MAN Ay, my lord.GLOUCESTER

Then, prithee, get thee away. If for my sakeThou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or twainI’ th’ way toward Dover, do it for ancient love, 50And bring some covering for this naked soul,Which I’ll entreat to lead me.

OLD MAN Alack, sir, he is mad.GLOUCESTER

’Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure. 55Above the rest, begone.

OLD MANI’ll bring him the best ’parel that I have,Come on ’t what will. He exits.

GLOUCESTER Sirrah, naked fellow—EDGAR

Poor Tom’s a-cold. Aside. I cannot daub it further. 60GLOUCESTER Come hither, fellow.EDGAR, aside

And yet I must.—Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.GLOUCESTER Know’st thou the way to Dover?EDGAR Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath.

Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits. 65Bless thee, good man’s son, from the foul fiend.Five fiends have been in Poor Tom at once: of lust,as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness;Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet,of mopping and mowing, who since possesses 70chambermaids and waiting women. So, blessthee, master.

GLOUCESTER, giving him moneyHere, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’

plaguesHave humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched 75Makes thee the happier. Heavens, deal so still:Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,That slaves your ordinance, that will not seeBecause he does not feel, feel your power quickly.So distribution should undo excess 80And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

EDGAR Ay, master.GLOUCESTER

There is a cliff, whose high and bending headLooks fearfully in the confinèd deep.Bring me but to the very brim of it, 85

And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bearWith something rich about me. From that placeI shall no leading need.

EDGAR Give me thy arm.Poor Tom shall lead thee. 90

They exit.

Scene 2Enter Goneril and Edmund, the Bastard.

GONERILWelcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husbandNot met us on the way.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

Now, where’s your master?OSWALD

Madam, within, but never man so changed.I told him of the army that was landed; 5He smiled at it. I told him you were coming;His answer was “The worse.” Of Gloucester’s

treacheryAnd of the loyal service of his sonWhen I informed him, then he called me “sot” 10And told me I had turned the wrong side out.What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;What like, offensive.

GONERIL, to Edmund Then shall you go no further.It is the cowish terror of his spirit, 15That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongsWhich tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the wayMay prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother.Hasten his musters and conduct his powers.I must change names at home and give the distaff 20Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servantShall pass between us. Ere long you are like to

hear—If you dare venture in your own behalf—A mistress’s command. Wear this; spare speech. 25

She gives him a favor.Decline your head. She kisses him. This kiss, if it

durst speak,Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.Conceive, and fare thee well.

EDMUNDYours in the ranks of death. He exits. 30

GONERIL My most dearGloucester!

O, the difference of man and man!To thee a woman’s services are due;My fool usurps my body. 35

OSWALD Madam, here comes my lord. He exits.

Enter Albany.

GONERILI have been worth the whistle.

ALBANY O Goneril,You are not worth the dust which the rude windBlows in your face. I fear your disposition. 40That nature which contemns its originCannot be bordered certain in itself.She that herself will sliver and disbranchFrom her material sap perforce must witherAnd come to deadly use. 45

GONERIL No more. The text is foolish.ALBANY

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile.Filths savor but themselves. What have you done?Tigers, not daughters, what have you performed?A father, and a gracious agèd man, 50Whose reverence even the head-lugged bear would

lick,Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you

madded.Could my good brother suffer you to do it? 55A man, a prince, by him so benefited!If that the heavens do not their visible spiritsSend quickly down to tame these vile offenses,It will come:Humanity must perforce prey on itself, 60Like monsters of the deep.

GONERIL Milk-livered man,That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerningThine honor from thy suffering; that not know’st 65Fools do those villains pity who are punishedEre they have done their mischief. Where’s thy

drum?France spreads his banners in our noiseless land,With plumèd helm thy state begins to threat, 70Whilst thou, a moral fool, sits still and cries“Alack, why does he so?”

ALBANY See thyself, devil!Proper deformity shows not in the fiendSo horrid as in woman. 75

GONERIL O vain fool!ALBANY

Thou changèd and self-covered thing, for shameBemonster not thy feature. Were ’t my fitnessTo let these hands obey my blood,They are apt enough to dislocate and tear 80Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend,A woman’s shape doth shield thee.

GONERIL Marry, your manhood, mew—

Enter a Messenger.

ALBANY What news?MESSENGER

O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead, 85

Slain by his servant, going to put outThe other eye of Gloucester.

ALBANY Gloucester’s eyes?MESSENGER

A servant that he bred, thrilled with remorse,Opposed against the act, bending his sword 90To his great master, who, thereat enraged,Flew on him and amongst them felled him dead,But not without that harmful stroke which sinceHath plucked him after.

ALBANY This shows you are above, 95You justicers, that these our nether crimesSo speedily can venge. But, O poor Gloucester,Lost he his other eye?

MESSENGER Both, both, my lord.—This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer. 100

Giving her a paper.’Tis from your sister.

GONERIL, aside One way I like this well.But being widow and my Gloucester with herMay all the building in my fancy pluckUpon my hateful life. Another way 105The news is not so tart.—I’ll read, and answer.

She exits.ALBANY

Where was his son when they did take his eyes?MESSENGER

Come with my lady hither.ALBANY He is not here.MESSENGER

No, my good lord. I met him back again. 110ALBANY Knows he the wickedness?MESSENGER

Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he informed against himAnd quit the house on purpose, that their punishmentMight have the freer course.

ALBANY Gloucester, I live 115To thank thee for the love thou show’d’st the King,And to revenge thine eyes.—Come hither, friend.Tell me what more thou know’st.

They exit.

Scene 3Enter Kent in disguise and a Gentleman.

KENT Why the King of France is so suddenly goneback know you no reason?

GENTLEMAN Something he left imperfect in the state,which since his coming forth is thought of, whichimports to the kingdom so much fear and danger 5that his personal return was most required andnecessary.

KENT Who hath he left behind him general?GENTLEMAN The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.KENT Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration 10

of grief?

GENTLEMANAy, sir, she took them, read them in my

presence,And now and then an ample tear trilled downHer delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen 15Over her passion, who, most rebel-like,Fought to be king o’er her.

KENT O, then it moved her.GENTLEMAN

Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow stroveWho should express her goodliest. You have seen 20Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and tearsWere like a better way. Those happy smiletsThat played on her ripe lip seemed not to knowWhat guests were in her eyes, which parted thenceAs pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief, 25Sorrow would be a rarity most belovedIf all could so become it.

KENT Made she no verbal question?GENTLEMAN

Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of“father” 30

Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart;Cried “Sisters, sisters, shame of ladies, sisters!Kent, father, sisters! What, i’ th’ storm, i’ th’ night?Let pity not be believed!” There she shookThe holy water from her heavenly eyes, 35And clamor moistened. Then away she started,To deal with grief alone.

KENT It is the stars.The stars above us govern our conditions,Else one self mate and make could not beget 40Such different issues. You spoke not with her

since?GENTLEMAN No.KENT

Was this before the King returned?GENTLEMAN No, since. 45KENT

Well, sir, the poor distressèd Lear’s i’ th’ town,Who sometime in his better tune remembersWhat we are come about, and by no meansWill yield to see his daughter.

GENTLEMAN Why, good sir? 50KENT

A sovereign shame so elbows him—his ownunkindness,

That stripped her from his benediction, turned herTo foreign casualties, gave her dear rightsTo his dog-hearted daughters—these things sting 55His mind so venomously that burning shameDetains him from Cordelia.

GENTLEMAN Alack, poor gentleman!KENT

Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?GENTLEMAN ’Tis so. They are afoot. 60

KENTWell, sir, I’ll bring you to our master LearAnd leave you to attend him. Some dear causeWill in concealment wrap me up awhile.When I am known aright, you shall not grieveLending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go 65Along with me.

They exit.

Scene 4Enter with Drum and Colors, Cordelia, Doctor,

Gentlemen, and Soldiers.

CORDELIAAlack, ’tis he! Why, he was met even nowAs mad as the vexed sea, singing aloud,Crowned with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds,With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckooflowers,Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow 5In our sustaining corn. A century send forth.Search every acre in the high-grown fieldAnd bring him to our eye. Soldiers exit.

What can man’s wisdomIn the restoring his bereavèd sense? 10He that helps him take all my outward worth.

DOCTOR There is means, madam.Our foster nurse of nature is repose,The which he lacks. That to provoke in himAre many simples operative, whose power 15Will close the eye of anguish.

CORDELIA All blest secrets,All you unpublished virtues of the earth,Spring with my tears. Be aidant and remediateIn the good man’s distress. Seek, seek for him, 20Lest his ungoverned rage dissolve the lifeThat wants the means to lead it.

Enter Messenger.

MESSENGER News, madam.The British powers are marching hitherward.

CORDELIA’Tis known before. Our preparation stands 25In expectation of them.—O dear father,It is thy business that I go about.Therefore great FranceMy mourning and importuned tears hath pitied.No blown ambition doth our arms incite, 30But love, dear love, and our aged father’s right.Soon may I hear and see him.

They exit.

Scene 5Enter Regan and Oswald, the Steward.

REGANBut are my brother’s powers set forth?

OSWALD Ay, madam.REGAN Himself in person there?OSWALD Madam, with much ado.

Your sister is the better soldier. 5REGAN

Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?OSWALD No, madam.REGAN

What might import my sister’s letter to him?OSWALD I know not, lady.REGAN

Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. 10It was great ignorance, Gloucester’s eyes being out,To let him live. Where he arrives he movesAll hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,In pity of his misery, to dispatchHis nighted life; moreover to descry 15The strength o’ th’ enemy.

OSWALDI must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

REGANOur troops set forth tomorrow. Stay with us.The ways are dangerous.

OSWALD I may not, madam. 20My lady charged my duty in this business.

REGANWhy should she write to Edmund? Might not youTransport her purposes by word? Belike,Some things—I know not what. I’ll love thee much—Let me unseal the letter. 25

OSWALD Madam, I had rather—REGAN

I know your lady does not love her husband;I am sure of that; and at her late being here,She gave strange eliads and most speaking looksTo noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom. 30

OSWALD I, madam?REGAN

I speak in understanding. Y’ are; I know ’t.Therefore I do advise you take this note:My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talked,And more convenient is he for my hand 35Than for your lady’s. You may gather more.If you do find him, pray you, give him this,And when your mistress hears thus much from you,I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.So, fare you well. 40If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

OSWALDWould I could meet him, madam. I should showWhat party I do follow.

REGAN Fare thee well. 45They exit.

Scene 6Enter Gloucester and Edgar dressed as a peasant.

GLOUCESTERWhen shall I come to th’ top of that same hill?

EDGARYou do climb up it now. Look how we labor.

GLOUCESTERMethinks the ground is even.

EDGAR Horrible steep.Hark, do you hear the sea? 5

GLOUCESTER No, truly.EDGAR

Why then, your other senses grow imperfectBy your eyes’ anguish.

GLOUCESTER So may it be indeed.Methinks thy voice is altered and thou speak’st 10In better phrase and matter than thou didst.

EDGARYou’re much deceived; in nothing am I changedBut in my garments.

GLOUCESTER Methinks you’re better spoken.EDGAR

Come on, sir. Here’s the place. Stand still. How 15fearful

And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low!The crows and choughs that wing the midway airShow scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway downHangs one that gathers samphire—dreadful trade; 20Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.The fishermen that walk upon the beachAppear like mice, and yond tall anchoring barkDiminished to her cock, her cock a buoyAlmost too small for sight. The murmuring surge 25That on th’ unnumbered idle pebble chafesCannot be heard so high. I’ll look no moreLest my brain turn and the deficient sightTopple down headlong.

GLOUCESTER Set me where you stand. 30EDGAR

Give me your hand. You are now within a footOf th’ extreme verge. For all beneath the moonWould I not leap upright.

GLOUCESTER Let go my hand.Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel 35Well worth a poor man’s taking. Fairies and godsProsper it with thee. He gives Edgar a purse.

Go thou further off.Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

EDGAR, walking awayNow fare you well, good sir. 40

GLOUCESTER With all my heart.EDGAR, aside

Why I do trifle thus with his despairIs done to cure it.

GLOUCESTER O you mighty gods! He kneels.This world I do renounce, and in your sights 45Shake patiently my great affliction off.If I could bear it longer, and not fallTo quarrel with your great opposeless wills,My snuff and loathèd part of nature shouldBurn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!— 50Now, fellow, fare thee well. He falls.

EDGAR Gone, sir. Farewell.—And yet I know not how conceit may robThe treasury of life, when life itselfYields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, 55By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?—Ho you, sir! Friend, hear you. Sir, speak.—Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.—What are you, sir?

GLOUCESTER Away, and let me die. 60EDGAR

Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,So many fathom down precipitating,Thou ’dst shivered like an egg; but thou dost

breathe,Hast heavy substance, bleed’st not, speak’st, art 65

sound.Ten masts at each make not the altitudeWhich thou hast perpendicularly fell.Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again.

GLOUCESTER But have I fall’n or no? 70EDGAR

From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.Look up a-height. The shrill-gorged lark so farCannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.

GLOUCESTER Alack, I have no eyes.Is wretchedness deprived that benefit 75To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfortWhen misery could beguile the tyrant’s rageAnd frustrate his proud will.

EDGAR Give me your arm.He raises Gloucester.

Up. So, how is ’t? Feel you your legs? You stand. 80GLOUCESTER

Too well, too well.EDGAR This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o’ th’ cliff, what thing was thatWhich parted from you?

GLOUCESTER A poor unfortunate beggar. 85EDGAR

As I stood here below, methought his eyesWere two full moons; he had a thousand noses,Horns whelked and waved like the enragèd sea.It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,Think that the clearest gods, who make them 90

honorsOf men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee.

GLOUCESTERI do remember now. Henceforth I’ll bear

Affliction till it do cry out itself“Enough, enough!” and die. That thing you speak of, 95I took it for a man. Often ’twould say“The fiend, the fiend!” He led me to that place.

EDGARBear free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear.

But who comes here?The safer sense will ne’er accommodate 100His master thus.

LEAR No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am theKing himself.

EDGAR O, thou side-piercing sight!LEAR Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your 105

press-money. That fellow handles his bow like acrowkeeper. Draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look,a mouse! Peace, peace! This piece of toasted cheesewill do ’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on agiant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! 110I’ th’ clout, i’ th’ clout! Hewgh! Give the word.

EDGAR Sweet marjoram.LEAR Pass.GLOUCESTER I know that voice.LEAR Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flattered 115

me like a dog and told me I had the white hairs inmy beard ere the black ones were there. To say “ay”and “no” to everything that I said “ay” and “no” towas no good divinity. When the rain came to wet meonce and the wind to make me chatter, when the 120thunder would not peace at my bidding, there Ifound ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to. They arenot men o’ their words; they told me I was everything.’Tis a lie. I am not ague-proof.

GLOUCESTERThe trick of that voice I do well remember. 125Is ’t not the King?

LEAR Ay, every inch a king.When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause?

Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No. 130The wren goes to ’t, and the small gilded fly doeslecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive, forGloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his fatherthan my daughters got ’tween the lawful sheets. To’t, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers. Behold yond 135simp’ring dame, whose face between her forkspresages snow, that minces virtue and does shakethe head to hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchewnor the soiled horse goes to ’t with a more riotousappetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, 140though women all above. But to the girdle do thegods inherit; beneath is all the fiend’s. There’s hell,there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning,scalding, stench, consumption! Fie, fie, fie, pah,

pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary; 145sweeten my imagination. There’s money for thee.

GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand!LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.GLOUCESTER

O ruined piece of nature! This great worldShall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me? 150

LEAR I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thousquinny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid, I’llnot love. Read thou this challenge. Mark but thepenning of it.

GLOUCESTERWere all thy letters suns, I could not see. 155

EDGAR, asideI would not take this from report. It is,And my heart breaks at it.

LEAR Read.GLOUCESTER What, with the case of eyes?LEAR O ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your 160

head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are ina heavy case, your purse in a light, yet you see howthis world goes.

GLOUCESTER I see it feelingly.LEAR What, art mad? A man may see how this world 165

goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. See howyond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark inthine ear. Change places and, handy-dandy, whichis the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen afarmer’s dog bark at a beggar? 170

GLOUCESTER Ay, sir.LEAR And the creature run from the cur? There thou

might’st behold the great image of authority: adog’s obeyed in office.

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! 175Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back.Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kindFor which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the

cozener.Through tattered clothes small vices do appear. 180Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with

gold,And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it.None does offend, none, I say, none; I’ll able ’em. 185Take that of me, my friend, who have the powerTo seal th’ accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,And like a scurvy politicianSeem to see the things thou dost not. Now, now,

now, now. 190Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. So.

EDGAR, asideO, matter and impertinency mixed,Reason in madness!

LEARIf thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester. 195

Thou must be patient. We came crying hither;Thou know’st the first time that we smell the airWe wawl and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark.

GLOUCESTER Alack, alack the day!LEAR

When we are born, we cry that we are come 200To this great stage of fools.—This’ a good block.It were a delicate stratagem to shoeA troop of horse with felt. I’ll put ’t in proof,And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws,Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! 205

Enter a Gentleman and Attendants.

GENTLEMAN, noticing LearO, here he is. To an Attendant. Lay hand upon

him.—Sir,Your most dear daughter—

LEARNo rescue? What, a prisoner? I am evenThe natural fool of Fortune. Use me well. 210You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;I am cut to th’ brains.

GENTLEMAN You shall have anything.LEAR No seconds? All myself?

Why, this would make a man a man of salt, 215To use his eyes for garden waterpots,Ay, and laying autumn’s dust.I will die bravely like a smug bridegroom. What?I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king,Masters, know you that? 220

GENTLEMANYou are a royal one, and we obey you.

LEAR Then there’s life in ’t. Come, an you get it, youshall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.

The King exits running pursued by Attendants.GENTLEMAN

A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,Past speaking of in a king. Thou hast a daughter 225Who redeems nature from the general curseWhich twain have brought her to.

EDGAR Hail, gentle sir.GENTLEMAN Sir, speed you. What’s your will?EDGAR

Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? 230GENTLEMAN

Most sure and vulgar. Everyone hears that,Which can distinguish sound.

EDGAR But, by your favor,How near’s the other army?

GENTLEMANNear and on speedy foot. The main descry 235Stands on the hourly thought.

EDGAR I thank you, sir. That’s all.GENTLEMAN

Though that the Queen on special cause is here,

Her army is moved on.EDGAR I thank you, sir. 240

Gentleman exits.GLOUCESTER

You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;Let not my worser spirit tempt me againTo die before you please.

EDGAR Well pray you, father.GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you? 245EDGAR

A most poor man, made tame to Fortune’s blows,Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand;I’ll lead you to some biding.

He takes Gloucester’s hand.GLOUCESTER Hearty thanks. 250

The bounty and the benison of heavenTo boot, and boot.

Enter Oswald, the Steward.

OSWALD, drawing his swordA proclaimed prize! Most happy!

That eyeless head of thine was first framed fleshTo raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, 255Briefly thyself remember; the sword is outThat must destroy thee.

GLOUCESTER Now let thy friendly handPut strength enough to ’t.

Edgar steps between Gloucester and Oswald.OSWALD Wherefore, bold peasant, 260

Dar’st thou support a published traitor? Hence,Lest that th’ infection of his fortune takeLike hold on thee. Let go his arm.

EDGAR Chill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion.OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest! 265EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor

volk pass. An ’chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of mylife, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight.Nay, come not near th’ old man. Keep out,che vor’ ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my 270ballow be the harder. Chill be plain with you.

OSWALD Out, dunghill.EDGAR Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come, no matter vor

your foins. They fight.OSWALD, falling

Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse. 275If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,And give the letters which thou find’st about meTo Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him outUpon the English party. O, untimely death! Death!

He dies.EDGAR

I know thee well, a serviceable villain, 280As duteous to the vices of thy mistressAs badness would desire.

GLOUCESTER What, is he dead?EDGAR Sit you down, father; rest you.

Let’s see these pockets. The letters that he speaks of 285May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorryHe had no other deathsman. Let us see.

He opens a letter.Leave, gentle wax, and, manners, blame us not.To know our enemies’ minds, we rip their hearts.Their papers is more lawful. Reads the letter. 290

Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You havemany opportunities to cut him off. If your will wantnot, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There isnothing done if he return the conqueror. Then am Ithe prisoner, and his bed my jail, from the loathed 295warmth whereof deliver me and supply the place foryour labor.Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,and, for you, her own for venture, Goneril.

O indistinguished space of woman’s will! 300A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life,And the exchange my brother.—Here, in the sandsThee I’ll rake up, the post unsanctifiedOf murderous lechers; and in the mature timeWith this ungracious paper strike the sight 305Of the death-practiced duke. For him ’tis wellThat of thy death and business I can tell.

GLOUCESTERThe King is mad. How stiff is my vile senseThat I stand up and have ingenious feelingOf my huge sorrows! Better I were distract. 310So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs,And woes, by wrong imaginations, loseThe knowledge of themselves. Drum afar off.

EDGAR Give me your hand.Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. 315Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.

They exit.

Scene 7Enter Cordelia, Kent in disguise, Doctor, and

Gentleman.

CORDELIAO, thou good Kent, how shall I live and workTo match thy goodness? My life will be too short,And every measure fail me.

KENTTo be acknowledged, madam, is o’erpaid.All my reports go with the modest truth, 5Nor more, nor clipped, but so.

CORDELIA Be better suited.These weeds are memories of those worser hours.I prithee put them off.

KENT Pardon, dear madam. 10Yet to be known shortens my made intent.My boon I make it that you know me not

Till time and I think meet.CORDELIA

Then be ’t so, my good lord.—How does the King?DOCTOR Madam, sleeps still. 15CORDELIA O, you kind gods,

Cure this great breach in his abusèd nature!Th’ untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up,Of this child-changèd father!

DOCTOR So please your Majesty 20That we may wake the King? He hath slept

long.CORDELIA

Be governed by your knowledge, and proceedI’ th’ sway of your own will. Is he arrayed?

Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.

GENTLEMANAy, madam. In the heaviness of sleep, 25We put fresh garments on him.

DOCTORBe by, good madam, when we do awake him.I doubt not of his temperance.

CORDELIA Very well.Music.

DOCTORPlease you, draw near.—Louder the music there. 30

CORDELIA, kissing LearO, my dear father, restoration hangThy medicine on my lips, and let this kissRepair those violent harms that my two sistersHave in thy reverence made.

KENT Kind and dear princess. 35CORDELIA

Had you not been their father, these white flakesDid challenge pity of them. Was this a faceTo be opposed against the jarring winds?To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder,In the most terrible and nimble stroke 40Of quick cross-lightning? To watch, poor perdu,With this thin helm? Mine enemy’s dog,Though he had bit me, should have stood that nightAgainst my fire. And wast thou fain, poor father,To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn 45In short and musty straw? Alack, alack,’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at onceHad not concluded all.—He wakes. Speak to him.

DOCTOR Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.CORDELIA

How does my royal lord? How fares your Majesty? 50LEAR

You do me wrong to take me out o’ th’ grave.Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am boundUpon a wheel of fire, that mine own tearsDo scald like molten lead.

CORDELIA Sir, do you know me? 55

LEARYou are a spirit, I know. Where did you die?

CORDELIA Still, still, far wide.DOCTOR

He’s scarce awake. Let him alone awhile.LEAR

Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?I am mightily abused; I should e’en die with pity 60To see another thus. I know not what to say.I will not swear these are my hands. Let’s see.I feel this pinprick. Would I were assuredOf my condition!

CORDELIA O, look upon me, sir, 65And hold your hand in benediction o’er me.No, sir, you must not kneel.

LEAR Pray do not mock:I am a very foolish fond old man,Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less, 70And to deal plainly,I fear I am not in my perfect mind.Methinks I should know you and know this man,Yet I am doubtful, for I am mainly ignorantWhat place this is, and all the skill I have 75Remembers not these garments; nor I know notWhere I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me,For, as I am a man, I think this ladyTo be my child Cordelia.

CORDELIA, weeping And so I am; I am. 80LEAR

Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not.If you have poison for me, I will drink it.I know you do not love me, for your sistersHave, as I do remember, done me wrong.You have some cause; they have not. 85

CORDELIA No cause, nocause.

LEAR Am I in France?KENT In your own kingdom, sir.LEAR Do not abuse me. 90DOCTOR

Be comforted, good madam. The great rage,You see, is killed in him, and yet it is dangerTo make him even o’er the time he has lost.Desire him to go in. Trouble him no moreTill further settling. 95

CORDELIA Will ’t please your Highness walk?LEAR You must bear with me.

Pray you now, forget, and forgive. I am old andfoolish. They exit. Kent and Gentleman remain.

GENTLEMAN Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall 100was so slain?

KENT Most certain, sir.GENTLEMAN Who is conductor of his people?KENT As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.GENTLEMAN They say Edgar, his banished son, is with 105

the Earl of Kent in Germany.

KENT Report is changeable. ’Tis time to look about.The powers of the kingdom approach apace.

GENTLEMAN The arbitrament is like to be bloody. Fareyou well, sir. He exits. 110

KENTMy point and period will be throughly wrought,Or well, or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought.

He exits.

ACT 5

Scene 1Enter, with Drum and Colors, Edmund, Regan,

Gentlemen, and Soldiers.

EDMUND, to a GentlemanKnow of the Duke if his last purpose hold,Or whether since he is advised by aughtTo change the course. He’s full of alterationAnd self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.

A Gentleman exits.REGAN

Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried. 5EDMUND

’Tis to be doubted, madam.REGAN Now, sweet lord,

You know the goodness I intend upon you;Tell me but truly, but then speak the truth,Do you not love my sister? 10

EDMUND In honored love.REGAN

But have you never found my brother’s wayTo the forfended place?

EDMUND That thought abuses you.REGAN

I am doubtful that you have been conjunct 15And bosomed with her as far as we call hers.

EDMUND No, by mine honor, madam.REGAN

I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,Be not familiar with her.

EDMUNDFear me not. She and the Duke, her husband. 20

Enter, with Drum and Colors, Albany, Goneril, Soldiers.

GONERIL, asideI had rather lose the battle than that sisterShould loosen him and me.

ALBANYOur very loving sister, well bemet.—Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter,With others whom the rigor of our state 25Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest,I never yet was valiant. For this business,It touches us as France invades our land,Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear,Most just and heavy causes make oppose. 30

EDMUNDSir, you speak nobly.

REGAN Why is this reasoned?

GONERILCombine together ’gainst the enemy,For these domestic and particular broilsAre not the question here. 35

ALBANY Let’s then determineWith th’ ancient of war on our proceeding.

EDMUNDI shall attend you presently at your tent.

REGAN Sister, you’ll go with us?GONERIL No. 40REGAN

’Tis most convenient. Pray, go with us.GONERIL, aside

Oho, I know the riddle.—I will go.They begin to exit.

Enter Edgar dressed as a peasant.

EDGAR, to AlbanyIf e’er your Grace had speech with man so poor,Hear me one word.

ALBANY, to those exitingI’ll overtake you.—Speak. 45

Both the armies exit.EDGAR, giving him a paper

Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.If you have victory, let the trumpet soundFor him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,I can produce a champion that will proveWhat is avouchèd there. If you miscarry, 50Your business of the world hath so an end,And machination ceases. Fortune love you.

ALBANY Stay till I have read the letter.EDGAR I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry 55And I’ll appear again. He exits.

ALBANYWhy, fare thee well. I will o’erlook thy paper.

Enter Edmund.

EDMUNDThe enemy’s in view. Draw up your powers.

Giving him a paper.Here is the guess of their true strength and forcesBy diligent discovery. But your haste 60Is now urged on you.

ALBANY We will greet the time.He exits.

EDMUNDTo both these sisters have I sworn my love,Each jealous of the other as the stungAre of the adder. Which of them shall I take? 65Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoyedIf both remain alive. To take the widowExasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril,

And hardly shall I carry out my side,Her husband being alive. Now, then, we’ll use 70His countenance for the battle, which, being done,Let her who would be rid of him deviseHis speedy taking off. As for the mercyWhich he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,The battle done and they within our power, 75Shall never see his pardon, for my stateStands on me to defend, not to debate.

He exits.

Scene 2Alarum within. Enter, with Drum and Colors, Lear,

Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage, and exit.Enter Edgar and Gloucester.

EDGARHere, father, take the shadow of this treeFor your good host. Pray that the right may thrive.If ever I return to you again,I’ll bring you comfort.

GLOUCESTER Grace go with you, sir. 5Edgar exits.

Alarum and Retreat within.

Enter Edgar.

EDGARAway, old man. Give me thy hand. Away.King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en.Give me thy hand. Come on.

GLOUCESTERNo further, sir. A man may rot even here.

EDGARWhat, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure 10Their going hence even as their coming hither.Ripeness is all. Come on.

GLOUCESTER And that’s true too.They exit.

Scene 3Enter in conquest, with Drum and Colors, Edmund;Lear and Cordelia as prisoners; Soldiers, Captain.

EDMUNDSome officers take them away. Good guardUntil their greater pleasures first be knownThat are to censure them.

CORDELIA, to Lear We are not the firstWho with best meaning have incurred the worst. 5For thee, oppressèd king, I am cast down.Myself could else outfrown false Fortune’s frown.Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

LEARNo, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison.We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ cage. 10

When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel downAnd ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live,And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laughAt gilded butterflies, and hear poor roguesTalk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too— 15Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out—And take upon ’s the mystery of things,As if we were God’s spies. And we’ll wear out,In a walled prison, packs and sects of great onesThat ebb and flow by th’ moon. 20

EDMUND Take them away.LEAR

Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught

thee?He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven 25And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes.The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell,Ere they shall make us weep. We’ll see ’em starved

first.Come. 30

Lear and Cordelia exit, with Soldiers.EDMUND Come hither, captain. Hark.

Handing him a paper.Take thou this note. Go follow them to prison.One step I have advanced thee. If thou dostAs this instructs thee, thou dost make thy wayTo noble fortunes. Know thou this: that men 35Are as the time is; to be tender-mindedDoes not become a sword. Thy great employmentWill not bear question. Either say thou ’lt do ’t,Or thrive by other means.

CAPTAIN I’ll do ’t, my lord. 40EDMUND

About it, and write “happy” when th’ hast done.Mark, I say, instantly, and carry it soAs I have set it down.

CAPTAINI cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats.If it be man’s work, I’ll do ’t. Captain exits. 45

Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, Soldiers and aCaptain.

ALBANY, to EdmundSir, you have showed today your valiant strain,And Fortune led you well. You have the captivesWho were the opposites of this day’s strife.I do require them of you, so to use themAs we shall find their merits and our safety 50May equally determine.

EDMUND Sir, I thought it fitTo send the old and miserable kingTo some retention and appointed guard,Whose age had charms in it, whose title more, 55To pluck the common bosom on his side

And turn our impressed lances in our eyes,Which do command them. With him I sent the

Queen,My reason all the same, and they are ready 60Tomorrow, or at further space, t’ appearWhere you shall hold your session. At this timeWe sweat and bleed. The friend hath lost his friend,And the best quarrels in the heat are cursedBy those that feel their sharpness. 65The question of Cordelia and her fatherRequires a fitter place.

ALBANY Sir, by your patience,I hold you but a subject of this war,Not as a brother. 70

REGAN That’s as we list to grace him.Methinks our pleasure might have been demandedEre you had spoke so far. He led our powers,Bore the commission of my place and person,The which immediacy may well stand up 75And call itself your brother.

GONERIL Not so hot.In his own grace he doth exalt himselfMore than in your addition.

REGAN In my rights, 80By me invested, he compeers the best.

GONERILThat were the most if he should husband you.

REGANJesters do oft prove prophets.

GONERIL Holla, holla!That eye that told you so looked but asquint. 85

REGANLady, I am not well, else I should answerFrom a full-flowing stomach. To Edmund.

General,Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony.Dispose of them, of me; the walls is thine. 90Witness the world that I create thee hereMy lord and master.

GONERIL Mean you to enjoy him?ALBANY

The let-alone lies not in your goodwill.EDMUND

Nor in thine, lord. 95ALBANY Half-blooded fellow, yes.REGAN, to Edmund

Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.ALBANY

Stay yet, hear reason.—Edmund, I arrest theeOn capital treason; and, in thine attaint,This gilded serpent.—For your claim, fair 100

sister,I bar it in the interest of my wife.’Tis she is subcontracted to this lord,And I, her husband, contradict your banns.If you will marry, make your loves to me. 105

My lady is bespoke.GONERIL An interlude!ALBANY

Thou art armed, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound.If none appear to prove upon thy personThy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, 110There is my pledge. He throws down a glove.

I’ll make it on thy heart,Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing lessThan I have here proclaimed thee.

REGAN Sick, O, sick! 115GONERIL, aside If not, I’ll ne’er trust medicine.EDMUND

There’s my exchange. He throws down a glove.What in the world he is

That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.Call by the trumpet. He that dares approach, 120On him, on you, who not, I will maintainMy truth and honor firmly.

ALBANYA herald, ho!

EDMUND A herald, ho, a herald!ALBANY

Trust to thy single virtue, for thy soldiers, 125All levied in my name, have in my nameTook their discharge.

REGAN My sickness grows upon me.ALBANY

She is not well. Convey her to my tent.Regan is helped to exit.

Enter a Herald.

Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound, 130And read out this. He hands the Herald a paper.

CAPTAIN Sound, trumpet!A trumpet sounds.

HERALD reads.If any man of quality or degree, within the lists of thearmy, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl ofGloucester, that he is a manifold traitor, let him 135appear by the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold inhis defense. First trumpet sounds.

HERALD Again! Second trumpet sounds.HERALD Again! Third trumpet sounds.

Trumpet answers within.

Enter Edgar armed.

ALBANY, to HeraldAsk him his purposes, why he appears 140Upon this call o’ th’ trumpet.

HERALD What are you?Your name, your quality, and why you answerThis present summons?

EDGAR Know my name is lost, 145

By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.Yet am I noble as the adversaryI come to cope.

ALBANY Which is that adversary?EDGAR

What’s he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of 150Gloucester?

EDMUNDHimself. What sayest thou to him?

EDGAR Draw thy sword,That if my speech offend a noble heart,Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine. 155

He draws his sword.Behold, it is my privilege, the privilege of mine

honors,My oath, and my profession. I protest,Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence,Despite thy victor-sword and fire-new fortune, 160Thy valor, and thy heart, thou art a traitor,False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father,Conspirant ’gainst this high illustrious prince,And from th’ extremest upward of thy headTo the descent and dust below thy foot, 165A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou “no,”This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bentTo prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,Thou liest.

EDMUND In wisdom I should ask thy name, 170But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,What safe and nicely I might well delayBy rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.Back do I toss these treasons to thy head, 175With the hell-hated lie o’erwhelm thy heart,Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,This sword of mine shall give them instant way,Where they shall rest forever. Trumpets, speak!

He draws his sword. Alarums. Fights.Edmund falls, wounded.

ALBANY, to EdgarSave him, save him! 180

GONERIL This is practice, Gloucester.By th’ law of war, thou wast not bound to answerAn unknown opposite. Thou art not vanquished,But cozened and beguiled.

ALBANY Shut your mouth, dame, 185Or with this paper shall I stopple it.—Hold, sir.—Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.No tearing, lady. I perceive you know it.

GONERILSay if I do; the laws are mine, not thine.Who can arraign me for ’t? 190

ALBANY Most monstrous! O!Know’st thou this paper?

GONERIL Ask me not what I know.She exits.

ALBANYGo after her, she’s desperate. Govern her.

A Soldier exits.EDMUND, to Edgar

What you have charged me with, that have I done, 195And more, much more. The time will bring it out.’Tis past, and so am I. But what art thouThat hast this fortune on me? If thou ’rt noble,I do forgive thee.

EDGAR Let’s exchange charity. 200I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;If more, the more th’ hast wronged me.My name is Edgar and thy father’s son.The gods are just, and of our pleasant vicesMake instruments to plague us. 205The dark and vicious place where thee he gotCost him his eyes.

EDMUND Th’ hast spoken right. ’Tis true.The wheel is come full circle; I am here.

ALBANY, to EdgarMethought thy very gait did prophesy 210A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.Let sorrow split my heart if ever IDid hate thee or thy father!

EDGAR Worthy prince, I know ’t.ALBANY Where have you hid yourself? 215

How have you known the miseries of your father?EDGAR

By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale,And when ’tis told, O, that my heart would burst!The bloody proclamation to escapeThat followed me so near—O, our lives’ sweetness, 220That we the pain of death would hourly dieRather than die at once!—taught me to shiftInto a madman’s rags, t’ assume a semblanceThat very dogs disdained, and in this habitMet I my father with his bleeding rings, 225Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair.Never—O fault!—revealed myself unto himUntil some half hour past, when I was armed.Not sure, though hoping of this good success, 230I asked his blessing, and from first to lastTold him our pilgrimage. But his flawed heart(Alack, too weak the conflict to support)’Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,Burst smilingly. 235

EDMUND This speech of yours hath moved me,And shall perchance do good. But speak you on.You look as you had something more to say.

ALBANYIf there be more, more woeful, hold it in,For I am almost ready to dissolve, 240Hearing of this.

EDGAR This would have seemed a period

To such as love not sorrow; but another,To amplify too much, would make much moreAnd top extremity. Whilst I 245Was big in clamor, came there in a manWho, having seen me in my worst estate,Shunned my abhorred society; but then, findingWho ’twas that so endured, with his strong armsHe fastened on my neck and bellowed out 250As he’d burst heaven, threw him on my father,Told the most piteous tale of Lear and himThat ever ear received, which, in recounting,His grief grew puissant, and the strings of lifeBegan to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded, 255And there I left him tranced.

ALBANY But who was this?EDGAR

Kent, sir, the banished Kent, who in disguiseFollowed his enemy king and did him serviceImproper for a slave. 260

Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife.

GENTLEMANHelp, help, O, help!

EDGAR What kind of help?ALBANY, to Gentleman Speak, man!EDGAR What means this bloody knife?GENTLEMAN

’Tis hot, it smokes! It came even from the heart 265Of—O, she’s dead!

ALBANY Who dead? Speak, man.GENTLEMAN

Your lady, sir, your lady. And her sisterBy her is poisoned. She confesses it.

EDMUNDI was contracted to them both. All three 270Now marry in an instant.

EDGAR Here comes Kent.

Enter Kent.

ALBANY, to the GentlemanProduce the bodies, be they alive or dead.

Gentleman exits.This judgment of the heavens, that makes us

tremble, 275Touches us not with pity. O, is this he?To Kent. The time will not allow the complimentWhich very manners urges.

KENT I am comeTo bid my king and master aye goodnight. 280Is he not here?

ALBANY Great thing of us forgot!Speak, Edmund, where’s the King? And where’s

Cordelia?Goneril and Regan’s bodies brought out.

Seest thou this object, Kent? 285KENT Alack, why thus?EDMUND Yet Edmund was beloved.

The one the other poisoned for my sake,And after slew herself.

ALBANY Even so.—Cover their faces. 290EDMUND

I pant for life. Some good I mean to doDespite of mine own nature. Quickly send—Be brief in it—to th’ castle, for my writIs on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia.Nay, send in time. 295

ALBANY Run, run, O, run!EDGAR

To who, my lord? To Edmund. Who has the office?Send

Thy token of reprieve.EDMUND

Well thought on. Take my sword. Give it the 300Captain.

EDGAR, to a Soldier Haste thee for thy life.The Soldier exits with Edmund’s sword.

EDMUND, to AlbanyHe hath commission from thy wife and meTo hang Cordelia in the prison, andTo lay the blame upon her own despair, 305That she fordid herself.

ALBANYThe gods defend her!—Bear him hence awhile.

Edmund is carried off.

Enter Lear with Cordelia in his arms,followed by a Gentleman.

LEARHowl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them soThat heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone 310

forever.I know when one is dead and when one lives.She’s dead as earth.—Lend me a looking glass.If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,Why, then she lives. 315

KENT Is this the promised end?EDGAR

Or image of that horror?ALBANY Fall and cease.LEAR

This feather stirs. She lives. If it be so,It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows 320That ever I have felt.

KENT O, my good master—LEAR

Prithee, away.EDGAR ’Tis noble Kent, your friend.

LEARA plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! 325I might have saved her. Now she’s gone forever.—Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha!What is ’t thou sayst?—Her voice was ever soft,Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee. 330

GENTLEMAN’Tis true, my lords, he did.

LEAR Did I not, fellow?I have seen the day, with my good biting falchionI would have made him skip. I am old now,And these same crosses spoil me. To Kent. Who 335

are you?Mine eyes are not o’ th’ best. I’ll tell you straight.

KENTIf Fortune brag of two she loved and hated,One of them we behold.

LEARThis is a dull sight. Are you not Kent? 340

KENT The same,Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?

LEARHe’s a good fellow, I can tell you that.He’ll strike and quickly too. He’s dead and rotten.

KENTNo, my good lord, I am the very man— 345

LEAR I’ll see that straight.KENT

That from your first of difference and decayHave followed your sad steps.

LEAR You are welcomehither. 350

KENTNor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark, and deadly.Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,And desperately are dead.

LEAR Ay, so I think.ALBANY

He knows not what he says, and vain is it 355That we present us to him.

EDGAR Very bootless.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER Edmund is dead, my lord.ALBANY That’s but a trifle here.—

You lords and noble friends, know our intent: 360What comfort to this great decay may comeShall be applied. For us, we will resign,During the life of this old Majesty,To him our absolute power; you to your rights,With boot and such addition as your Honors 365Have more than merited. All friends shall tasteThe wages of their virtue, and all foesThe cup of their deservings. O, see, see!

LEARAnd my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life?Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, 370And thou no breath at all? Thou ’lt come no more,Never, never, never, never, never.—Pray you undo this button. Thank you, sir.Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,Look there, look there! He dies. 375

EDGAR He faints. To Lear. My lord,my lord!

KENTBreak, heart, I prithee, break!

EDGAR Look up, my lord.KENT

Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him 380That would upon the rack of this tough worldStretch him out longer.

EDGAR He is gone indeed.KENT

The wonder is he hath endured so long.He but usurped his life. 385

ALBANYBear them from hence. Our present businessIs general woe. To Edgar and Kent. Friends of my

soul, you twainRule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.

KENTI have a journey, sir, shortly to go; 390My master calls me. I must not say no.

EDGARThe weight of this sad time we must obey,Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.The oldest hath borne most; we that are youngShall never see so much nor live so long. 395

They exit with a dead march.